Don't Stumble
by DropDeadThenDance
Summary: (Preview) - I was already moving, my feet carrying me down the hall; of course he'd side with her. Why would he even think about helping me? My mind was blurring out, my anger fueling me forward, and I felt like I was walking with my eyes closed… No idea where I was heading.- (REAL WORLD CROSSOVER)
1. Scene 1: That Kinda Morning

**Author's Note: ** _Hello everybody! If you stopped in by my page you may know that I also write fanfiction elsewhere on the great wide web including: TONFA, Deviantart, and once upon a time Quizilla. That said, my name is the same everywhere I go to avoid confusion, and to help avoid theft :D So, if you've seen something of mine elsewhere, and it isn't under the name _**DropDeadThenDance,** _then it was probably stolen and should be reported! _

_Okay, anyway, this is the first chapter of_ **Don't Stumble**_. This fic is about a young girl struggling through highschool drama, an anime crazed best friend, and wondering if her life is really as simple as it seems! _

_That said, drop a review if you liked it, let me know what you think! I look forward to hearing from you guys :3_

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**PLEASE NOTE: The story you are about to read is an AU/Real World Crossover fiction.**

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Scene 1: That Kinda Morning

By: DropDeadThenDance

Late autumn, just a few stray leafs falling over head, with crisp, cold air nipping your nose and ears. It was beautiful despite that, and even when the trees had all lost those pretty colors and everything was starting to fade into every color brown imaginable. Yep, fall, one of the prettiest parts of the year that I was stuck wasting in school.

You wouldn't believe how hard it is to run with leafs under your feet, piles of them along the street just taunting you, and not to mention how slick they were; one wrong move and you were on your ass for a good three minutes, at least, and I just couldn't resist those piles. I'd run right through them, watching them fall back down over my head. They always fell in at a sort of slow-mo pace, distracting me from my feet, and then throwing me off balance.

If you've ever had to run with a thirty pound bag full of books and whatever else, you know what it's like when you lose your balance.

I tripped at just the right moment, my sneaker flinging out from beneath me as I fell backwards. My ass hit the side walk first, hard enough that I felt it straight up to the base of my skull, and when my back finally connected with the offensive backpack I could feel my algebra book digging a new notch in my spine. "Ow," I murmured, trying focus on something other than the pain.

First and foremost, I let my bag straps slide off my shoulders so I could roll onto my hands and knees. I sat up, balanced on my shins and stretched, my back popping unattractively. "That hurt, that hurt so bad," I whined, stretching my hands out in front of me then, weakly, climbed back to my feet. iAlright, no more fucking around here, you're already late,/i I instructed myself briskly as I snatched up one of my backpack straps.

With bag in hand, I swung it around my shoulder with the intention of masterfully sliding my arm through the second loop, but as my hand passed through it I heard a very distinct sound. It was something like that sound you hear when you bend over in the mall, the sound of your bluejeans tearing right down your ass while you're trapped in a store full of people you either go to school with or are total stranger you don't want looking at your ass.

As I set the bag on my shoulders, I dreaded looking back, knowing that it wasn't my pants that had ripped this time. "Fuck," I murmured as I glanced between my knees, seeing my books piled pathetically on the ground. Yep, the bottom of my bag just ripped wide open. "God, I don't need this right now!" I screamed as I tore the backpack off, throwing it on the ground, and then kicked my English book a good fifteen feet. "Fuck, why now?!" I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air. "Second day of the fucking semester and already everything's going to shit!"

I scooped up my algebra book, about to chuck it across the street and then storm home. I paused, however, glancing down at my torn backpack, and realized I was probably overreacting. "Agh," I murmured as I dropped to my knees and scooped up the ruined bag. I flipped it over, dropping my books in it one after another, then went and retrieved my abused English book which now had some very interesting scraps across the back cover.

"Here's to hoping," I said, picking up the now upside down bag. I held it up for a moment, waiting for the zippers to fling open and puke my books up everywhere, but surprisingly they held relatively well. I fixed the pack on my shoulders again, the straps fitting awkwardly against my neck, but it worked and that was all that mattered. I started running again from there, ignoring the pain in my knees and shoulder blades.

By the time I actually made it up the school, it was already almost ten and I was very, very late. I had pretty much missed my first hour class entirely, which didn't bother me so much because it was my foods class. I inched into the office through the open door, normally inviting if you were on time. "Mrs. Sanders?" I murmured as I moved towards the desk.

She was a lanky little thing, that Mrs. Sanders. Her frame was very slight, her silver hair lofty with a few strands always hanging down from the bun she wore. Her whole appearance was the textbook definition of World War II secretary, really; she had those thin, angled shoulders, thin arms, and when she walked, she walked like she meant business, as stupid as that might sound. I figured she had been really pretty when she was my age, but now she was the school secretary, and our school's secretary didn't take no shit.

"Morning Hannah," she said as she glanced up from her computer screen, her glittery green eyes meeting mine for a brief moment, staring at me disapprovingly over the thin rims of her glasses. "I have a late pass ready for you," she said as she pointed down the counter to where a thin red slip was sitting.

A sad, disappointed sigh escaped my lips as I dropped my hand on it, pulling the slip sluggishly towards my person. "Thanks Mrs. Sanders," I murmured. She handed me a pen, one hand still on her keyboard, and I took it so I might fill out the reason I was late.

"Overslept?" she asked suddenly, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

I shook my head as I finished writing on my pass, pushing the pen towards her. "Oh no, I would be much happier if that were the reason," I told her honestly then reached around and showed her my destroyed backpack. "Bottom ripped wide open while I was on my way here, freakin' awesome way to start the day," I said as I shook it back and forth for a bit for emphasis. I then slid it back onto my shoulders and gave Mrs. Sanders a pitiful little wave. "Bye now, I'm gonna try to be to Mrs. Warren's class on time. Maybe she won't rip out my soul then," I said and she nodded to me, offering a sympathetic smile.

Half way through the door I paused and then looked back at her, remembering something. "Oh, by the way, is the new math teacher in yet? He wasn't here yesterday," I asked curiously, having wondered quite a bit about this year's newest staff member. Most of the teachers that were here had been here since I was still in diapers, so new meat was a pretty big shocker to most of the kids in my grade and down, not to mention up.

I remember over the last week before school started there were tons of rumors about this guy circling around; some students were claiming he was a former cop, dropped for getting too rough with some thugs. Then there was the one that he was a former marine, oh, and the gay stripper one. That was my favorite; a tragic tale of a guy who lost his stripper career because of some sexual harassment charges that fell through, so he changes his tune and decides to become a teacher.

Yeah, that's very believable.

"I think so," she said slowly, seeming to be contemplating the answer. "I suppose you'll find out," she traded up then shooed me off. "Alright, get going, you're already late."

"Yeah, okay. Have a good day, Mrs. Sanders," I instructed, catching a wave in return as I baled from the office. From there, I jogged down the hall heading for Mrs. Warren's room. She was the English teacher, and by far my least favorite. School started at eight thirty, my first class being Foods, than English, World History, a Study hall, Lunch, followed up with the mysterious Math class, Art, and then finally gym.

By the time I got to Mrs. Warrnen's classroom, I could see through the long pane of glass next to her door that they were already very much underway. It crossed my mind to just go sit outside of Mr. Deno's classroom and wait for World History, but I knew I'd probably get more shit from Mrs. Warren if I skipped her class altogether.

With a brave face, I inched into the room, and the witch didn't waste a heartbeat. "Well, if it isn't our friend Hannah," she said harshly and I cringed as her shrill voice pierced my eardrums. She was a heavier set woman with rounded features, bulky glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, and she always wore really tight shirts that made her neck look like a tree trunk. "Second day of the semester and your late. Bravo," she chided as I walked up towards her desk.

"Yeah, about that," I said as I flung my backpack around my shoulders, holding it up to allow my teacher to observe my ruined bag. "My pack ripped on my way here," I explained as I watched her face, obviously irritated that I hadn't replaced it prior to it ripping, because I obviously knew my backpack was a piece of shit. "Here's my slip, I'll find my seat," I had to clench my fist to keep from flipping her off, or maybe punching her in the throat, but either way I managed to turn around and head towards my seat at the back of the class.

She didn't even wait for me to get back to my seat before she started talking again, blowing off the fact I had no idea what was going on so far. Granted, she probably knew how little I cared. I dropped into my seat, leaned my chair back until it was balanced against the wall with my feet under the lip of the table, and chilled in the perfect in-school-recliner.

I dug around in my backpack while Mrs. Warren talked in search of my reading material. I was one for shorter mangas, twenty-five volumes or less whenever possible, and Rurouni Kenshin was just the sort of manga for me. A series about a rouge samurai, a former crazed killer gone awesome, though not too say he wasn't awesome before. I opened my book and began to read, shutting out the school and everyone in it.

Eh, fuck the school. Bunch of idiots anyway.

**Scene End**


	2. Scene 2: Your Good Friends

Scene 2: Your Good Friends

By: DropDeadThenDance

"Hannah bana, mini fini manana bro cona! Banana fana, fi fie bo bobana, nananana, miss Hannah!"

"Megan!" I screamed finally, my hands ripping through my hair, and then flying up above my head. "For the love of god, shut up!" I turned on her, grabbing her shoulders, and shaking her a bit while she laughed in a somewhat maniacal fashion. "What do you want?" I demanded, her butt sliding back across the bench a few inches.

She snickered again, her messy brown locks twisting and curling as she giggled. "Nothin'" she said with a little grin. "I just like to bug the heck outa ya," she said with a feline little sneer, knowing that her attempts to irritate me were working very, very well. Megan Sheer, one of my classmates and probably my only friend; she had cropped, messy brown hair and hazy green eyes, a sharp chin and freckles dotted across the left side of her face. She was an odd one, never really making any sense, but Megan was Megan, and that's all that mattered.

I sighed a little to myself, turning away from her, and then rested my head against the table, my fingers lacing themselves through my hair again. "Megan," I groaned quietly. "Can't you just quietly eat your food for once?" I asked sadly, turning my head against the table's hard surface to stare at Megan. "I mean, honestly," I groaned, glaring little daggers at her face.

She laid her head across from me, her face and eyes level with mine. "Eh, if we're being honest… Nope," she said and grinned at me again. I debated punching her in the arm, but before I got the chance a sharp sound filled my ears and she shot up. "And there's the bell!" she screeched, jumping to her feet.

I sat up sluggishly, staring up at the cheaply tiled ceiling, then groaned. "Why the bell?" I asked pathetically, my hand grabbing hold of my messenger bag's strap. Thank god I always left it at school, otherwise I'd been carrying all my books throughout the day… And even better, I had Math next, meaning I would finally get to meet the mysterious Mr. Anderson. A man who was already getting harsh words tossed back and forth by the students who had him earlier today.

The whisper over lunch was he was a hard ass, but I wasn't too worried. The only teacher who really gave me a time of it was Mrs. Warren, and that was just because she was a bitch. She knew there was no point in haranguing me in my studies because then I just wouldn't do them, although that wasn't to say I'd do them either way, but that isn't the point I'm trying to make.

Megan bounced over to me, a stack of books in her arms. "I'm not reading anymore of that," I said annoyed as she started dropping them into my bag. A Manga she really enjoyed and felt the undying need to shove down my throat. "Seriously, it's way too long for me," I said as she dropped a fifth volume into my bag.

"Come on, it's not like you to not finish a series," she said with a devilish little grin, knowing it did bug the ever loving hell out of me. Probably the main reason I still took books from her during the day, and still continued reading them. "It's a long series, but it's almost over, and you're catching up, so stop whining!" she teased, poking me in the arm repeatedly until I shrugged her off.

"Hardly… I'm just past Sasuke and Itachi's big blow out," I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking back to the what I'd been reading a few days ago. Megan had begun assaulting me with the Naruto Manga early last year, shoving volume after volume down my throat. I hadn't known much about it then, thinking it was a shorter series, but Megan later revealed that it was ridiculously long compared to what I normally read.

"That was horrible, by the way. Not only did you spoil most of their history for me, you didn't tell me he dies at the end of the fight," I grumbled and Megan shrugged as she practically danced alongside of me, following me to class as usual. If our classes were in the same hall, she'd usually follow me to my class before stopping at hers, just to be a bug I guess.

"It was a fantastic fight though, wasn't it?" she asked, her arms behind her back with her fingers lacing together.

"Depressing, but yeah, pretty decent," I surrender and she grinned at me. I glanced ahead, seeing the math door hanging wide open, welcoming me into a supposed hell. "Well… There's math," I said and Megan nodded, then patted my shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"Good luck, young Skywalker," she said with a little wink and I rolled my eyes. She then darted down the hall, heading for her own class. I hated watching her run, her tiny form looking like she was floating instead of moving like any normal person would. I shook my head of the thought then, with a deep inhale, entered the classroom.

Surprisingly, there were only three other kids in the room so far, the class not starting for another five minutes. Karl Deno, the history Teacher's son, was sitting at a table in back, the two chairs next to him empty; he had blond, spiky hair with orange tints on the ends, his eyes a piercing light blue and his complexion pale. He was the school punk, his music always too loud, his attitude always shit, but his grades were flawless, so the teachers let him by scot-free.

The other two were Courtney Wittaka, a half native girl with chin length hair, a little pony tail sticking out from the top of her skull with the rest hanging down around her face. The last girl was sitting next to Courtney, and was someone I recognized as Emily Thompson; a tiny girl with a checkered, black and pink headband constantly holding back her thick locks of brown, chest length hair, her eyes a light grey.

Those two took no notice of me, but Karl glanced in my direction and offered me a two fingered salute. "Hey babe," he said casually, his nickname for me making my eye twitch, his own eyes looking as if he were about ready to fall asleep. "So you got stuck with this prick too?" he asked as I sat in the chair on the opposite end of the table from him.

"You've had him already today?" I asked, raising my brow at him, and Karl nodded slowly. Despite his prick like nature, he was usually very slow going, very mellow, it was just when he was challenged on his way of thinking… Then he got mean.

"Yeah, he's in charge of my second hour study hall. Major douche, babe," he said, still abusing the nick name. I'd called him out on it once, and he countered by asking me if I preferred Hannah Banana. After that, I just accepted it and decided it wasn't worth fighting with him over.

"So I've been hearing," I murmured as I watched a few more kids begin to filter in, people tracking down their desired seats. I usually sat by Karl if I shared a class with him, and if not him, than Megan. "What other classes does he got?" I asked, glancing at my spikey haired friend.

He shrugged. "Far as I know, he's got first hour prep, three math classes, two study halls, he oversees B lunch, and I believe that's it," Karl said as he named them off on his fingers. "Not sure what he does with the rest of the day, but there ya go."

"That's most of the day, actually," I said as I counted his fingers, finding seven. "Maybe he's got another prep period?" I suggested and Karl shrugged again, leaning back in his chair with his headphones around his neck. "Either way, glad I got C lunch," I said with a little smirk.

Karl let his arms drop, staring up at the ceiling disapprovingly. "Well fuck you, I got B lunch and he's a fucking hard ass," he groaned and I poked his shoulder, smiling at him.

By the time I looked ahead again, everybody was here and there was two minutes for class to start. At that moment, he finally appeared, this being the first time some of us had seen him so far, and boy did we see him; he was huge, over six foot at least, with a darker, kind of grey complexion, and his hair was choppy and a burnt brown, his eyes a cocoa.

Suddenly, the Marine or cop story didn't seem so unlikely, because even from the back row, I could tell he had some serious muscle going on under the white button up he was wearing, despite his tall, almost lanky form. He didn't look like a guy I wanted to fuck with, or anybody wanted to for that matter, and I was starting to see where the rumors had come from.

"For those of you who don't know," he addressed, his voice harsh and kind of raspy despite his calm appearance. "I am Mr. Anderson," he introduced then walked around his desk, leaning back against it, and then folding his arms over his chest. "I'll cut to the chase and repeat my rules. This is a classroom and I expect you to behave like it's a classroom, you screw around it comes out of your grades," he said simply and I felt my jaw drop.

No other teacher did that, not in this school. He looked around the room, seeming like he was sizing us up and picking out who was going to be trouble. "I catch you texting, jerking around, passing notes, cheating, I won't say anything to ya," he continued, a finger popping up as he named each offense. "Nope, you won't know I caught you until you check your grades. Everybody understand?" he asked, a few people nodding slowly. He smirked at this, revealing some wicked looking canines. "Good, now, let's get down to business."

**Scene End**


	3. Scene 3: Don't Make Me Go, Momma

**Scene 3: Don't Make Me Go, Momma**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

"Han, you're not gonna get any breakfast if you don't hurry your ass up," my mom's voice called up the stairs and I glanced out from under my blankets, my room almost completely black except for the distinct blue hue everything had.

I rolled out of bed, allowing myself to fall to the floor with the blanket wrapped tightly around my body, constricting me. I kicked at it a bit, my body feeling numb as I struggled sluggishly from the heap of sheets and my comforter. Finally free, I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling for a few strained moments, observing the odd green stars that had been there since I was a screaming, twitchy little kid.

I sighed then, rolling onto my stomach, my arms out at my sides. "Mom," I groaned loudly, my voice muffled by the plush carpet under me. "I'm not going to school today," I called, slowly pushing myself up from the floor, my hair falling around my ears and face in clumps and tangled strands. I stood on my knees, stretching my arms above my head, and listened to my shoulders and back pop and crack.

"You're funny, Han," my mom called back.

I crawled to my feet, cracking my neck as I walked over to the thick blue curtains in front of my window; they blocked out most of the light, and also cast this cool blue shadow across my room. Something I made a big deal about when I was little.

I pulled them back, letting the sun filter in and I yawned again, my eyes closed as I inched away from the window. I moved around the room, picking up some random articles of clothing, and then made my way from the room with whatever motivation I could find, which was unsurprisingly little. Anyway, the socks on my feet made it so I didn't even have to pick my feet up off the floor as I made my way to the upstairs bathroom. The second floor of our house was very simple. There was my parents' room on one end of a wide hallway, my room on the opposite end, and the bathroom in the middle.

I tapped on the bathroom door a few times, waited for a reply, then opened the door and went inside. I kicked the door gently closed, locked it, then dropped my clothes on the bathroom counter. Just another day with the same routine I went through every day; water on, shower curtain pulled back, teeth brushed, wash hair, towel dry, rinse, lather and repeat.

I shut off the water, shaking my head back and forth to rid my hair of some of the water I'd collected. The towel wrapped around my body felt too heavy, having collected the majority of the water from my shower. I tossed it over the shower's curtain rod, letting it drip, while I ran a comb through my hair.

The girl staring back at me from the mirror was a short girl, about 5'5", with shoulder length black hair. She had the underside of her hair dyed a bright blue, which contrasted her grey complexion shockingly. As for her eyes, they were a deep brown that looked almost purple in direct sunlight. I poked her in the forehead, my fingerprint being left on the mirror, and I wondered if I was going to get any taller any time soon. Considering I was already seventeen, it wasn't likely, but was it wrong to keep hoping?

As for my funky complexion; mom says I'm a little native, which explains why I'm a little darker than the average white girl, but I'd always noticed how pale I was despite that. Like someone had dumped grey into the mix when I was being conceived, giving everything about me a slight grey hue. Sounds like a pain, but it makes wearing bright colors a blast because they always pop.

I pulled on a royal blue tank top, tugging it all the way down to my thighs, then let it ride back up to my hips. I yanked on tan, khaki shorts that dropped to my knees, and a black, zip up hoodie with a big, white line print of C2 on the back. "Good enough," I said with a nod to myself in the mirror then turned on my heel and walked out of the bathroom.

I paced myself down the stairs, my arms out at my sides, and I jumped the last three steps. "Mom!" I called as I turned the corner by the bottom of the stairs, walking into the kitchen. "Do I have toast?" I asked as she turned, holding a plate out to me. I grabbed it and nodded when I found toast already in place. "Thanks mom," I said with a little smile and she smiled back at me before returning to the dishes.

My mother, Elli Batson, had long burgundy colored hair, her eyes a light brown, and her face dotted with freckles. She had a slight frame, thin shoulders, and long legs; she was pretty, and always dressed in flared blue jeans and a simple white or cream blouse. She always looked like she was about to go somewhere, which wasn't unlikely, but I always appreciated her simplicity compared to a lot of moms I knew.

"Homework done?" she asked as she set a plate in the rack, her eyes glancing back at me briefly.

"Yeah," I lied smoothly. Neither of my parents knew about my grades, I made sure of it, and spent much of my time catching phone calls, deleting messages, and hiding report cards from them. It wasn't that I wanted to lie to them, I just didn't agree with the school system, so I rebelled against it and refused to deal with them altogether.

… I'm not stupid, I just refuse to do the work until the staff stops treating students like they're just a part of their paycheck. When that happens, I'll be a straight A student, scout's honor.

"So, about not going to school?" I asked as I scrapped jelly over the surface of my toast.

My mom laughed, looking over her shoulder at me. "You're funny," she said as she set another dish in the rack. She flicked her hands dry, shaking them a bit, then turned around to face me with a brow raised, her arms folded over her chest. "I'm wondering though, why haven't you been wanting to go to school lately?" she asked casually and I looked at her with a blank stare.

"Mom," my tone was flat. "It's school, why would I want to go?"

She shrugged. "You usually don't mind it so much, but lately you bring… Like constantly in fact," moms are always too observant, but maybe this was my chance to get out of it?

"It's the new teacher, that Mr. Anderson guy," I explained then took a massive bite out of my toast, trying my best to ignore the crumbs and little bits of jelly that were now sticking to my face. "His nickname is Major Hardass, nobody likes him, not even Megan," I continued, wiping my face on a napkin as Mom's face took on a more thoughtful expression.

"I had teachers like that when I was in school," she said suddenly and I glanced up at her. "Honestly, looking back, those were my favorites. They did more with the kids and we learned more from them," she unconsciously lectured and I slammed my head into the table, having finished my toast and egg. I felt her hand on the back of my head then, ruffling my hair as she picked up my plate. "Give him some more time. Maybe you'll start to like him."

"Agh, Mom!" I said as I threw myself back in my chair. Today was going to be horrible, I knew it…

**Scene End**


	4. Scene 4: Eyes On Me

**Scene 4: Eyes On Me**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

Megan was standing behind me, her hands resting on my shoulders, her chin resting on her left hand, right on the knuckles it felt like. I was staring down at the table, a few silver colored chains sitting in front of me while I picked at some tiny jade colored beads. Megan watched as I fitted the gems between the links, using the beads and some thin wire to connect them. "How did you even manage to break this?" I grumbled as I carefully twisted the wire into one of the links.

Megan was breathing right into my ear, but she knew well enough to lower her voice before she replied to my question. "I was helping my mom with some groceries and it got caught on something, I think," she explained quietly, seeming slightly transfixed on what I was doing. "The chain snapped somewhere in the middle," she murmured and I sighed.

I'd made the bracelet for Megan at the beginning of the first school year we met, not long after we'd become friends. She was pretty much the only female I talked to, and it gave me an excuse to make something. The bracelet itself was made out of some little silver chains I'd gotten at the thrift store; I'd taken them apart and then put a bead in between every fifth link, wire inside of the beads keeping the whole thing together.

She was ecstatic when I gave it to her, but she made me kind of nervous when she said the beads looked like diamonds. Of course, she didn't say much else about it, and as usual my worries were for nothing. Even when she asked where I got them, I wasn't too worried because Megan was such a ditz; I told her I got them at the Beaded Frame craft store on Main Street. She dropped it after that and nobody else really asked about it… Probably because I didn't make them for anybody else.

I finally twisted the last wire closed and sighed slowly. I set the tweezers down and then held the bracelet up, letting Megan examine it. She gasped loudly, her arms coming suddenly around my neck, and she pulled me against her chest. "You're a ninja magician, Hannah!" she squealed and I flailed a bit, losing my balance and falling against her, my head resting against her chest.

"Ok, you're welcome," I wheezed. "Let go, please!" I groaned and struggled to get loose, my fingers entangled in the bracelet. Megan pushed me forward a bit so I wouldn't fall back when she let me go, but the kiss on my cheek wasn't at all necessary. I whipped my face while she giggled at me, taking the bracelet and quickly fitting it back to her wrist. "I had to take a link out, by the way, so if it fits weird let me know," I murmured as I held my hand to my cheek, rubbing the spot a bit.

"No no, it's fine. I think it fits better even," her lips curled a bit, a catty smile spreading across her face as she said this, and I rolled my eyes. I pulled a small, plastic box from my bag and popped it open, dropping the tweezers and extra chains into it. I'd hoped that I had a link that matched what I'd used on Megan's, but I hadn't. I figured I better head to the thrift store again soon and raid them of all their costume jewelry.

As I dropped my kit back in my bag, the bell rang, and Megan groaned loudly. "Aw, I don't want lunch to be over yet!" she whined as I stood, slinging my messenger bag over my left shoulder; no, my backpack hadn't been replaced. Anyway, Megan followed me out of the cafeteria, her hands resting on her stomach. "I was so distracted by your miss fix it skills that I totally forgot to eat!" her head drooped even further down as she said this, and I sighed.

"You're such a space cadet Megan," I grumbled as I dug in my bag. I produced a Rice Krispy Treat, Megan's eyes growing impossibly large as I held it out to her. She snatched it up and ripped it open with her teeth, biting into it with a large smile on her face. I sighed again, debating on why I'd become Megan's care taker over the last year. "Yuck," I murmured, seeing Mr. Anderson standing outside his class room.

Megan glanced up from her dorky stride, her eyes having been completely transfixed on her feet just moments ago. "Oh," she said slowly, realizing what I'd been talking about. "Yeah, I see how that could warrant a yuck," she giggled a little then glanced at me. "Lucky me, my parents let me transfer out of his class," she said with a cheeky little grin, then she stuck her tongue out at me. "Good luck Miss Fix It!" she teased then turned sharply on her heel and skipped away.

I could feel my brow twitch a little, a habit that had formed from too much anime. I placed two fingers against it, inhaling slowly as I watched Megan disappear around a corner. After settling myself down over Megan's little comment, I turned and headed for Mr. Anderson's classroom, his class not starting for a good five minutes.

He glanced down at me for a moment then looked out into the hallway again. "Hannah," he said simply and I raised my hand in a pathetic little wave. I passed through the door frame slowly, feeling lazy, and was about to head over to the back table where Karl was sitting, but a voice caught me by the door. "Hannah, I'd like to talk to you after class," he said suddenly, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"I have art after this," I hadn't intended for it to come out sounding so whiny. His eyes hardened on me and I felt my spine straighten up, an odd, unfamiliar chill running down my spine. "Eh… But, I guess Mrs. Harlan won't care too much," I traded off quickly, feeling those eyes bore into me.

He turned away again, leaning back against the doorframe. "If you got to school on time you'd know Mrs. Harlan isn't here today, you'll have study hall seventh hour today," he said simply and I paused, my back having turned to him as soon as his eyes moved away from me. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and then made my way over to where Karl was sitting, his headphones in and his head bopping to something.

I was amazed I couldn't hear it from across the room, hell, I didn't even notice he was listening to music till I got close. He took notice of me when I sat down in my usual spot, dropping my bag beside me. "Afternoon babe," he said as he pulled a bud out of his ear. He glanced forward, seeing Mr. Anderson's back still turned, then he turned his head in my direction. "So what'd he want?"

"He wants to talk to me after class," I murmured quietly, trying not to draw his attention.

I watched the furrow of Karl's brow, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Yeah?" he asked then leaned back against his chair, his finger flicking across the screen of his iPod. "Yeah… Ok," he practically whispered. He shot me a look then. "Hey, you want to see something really wicked?" he asked then and I felt a little surprised, having never seen him so animated. He flicked his iPod screen again, the light coming on, and he flipped through some things.

He made it look like he was looking for something, but really he was writing something down. He then held it in front of my face. "Popped up on Facebook last night," he said simply and I stared at the message he was showing me. I decide how I felt about what was written across the screen, whether I wanted to puke or go hide under my bed.

"**Mr. Anderson's got hots for you!**"

"Facebook," I said sarcastically, acting like I was looking at some stupid post on the web. In truth, I felt an odd sensation in my stomach. "Hey, I saw something last night, can I show you?" I asked and he nodded, passing me his iPod across the surface of the table and I quickly jotted something down for him.

"**WTF!? Why do you think that?**"

Karl glanced at me and laughed a little. "Heh, I hate super obvious memes," he said and I nodded, playing along even though I had no idea what he meant. He gestured to his iPod, acting like he was showing me the picture I had been showing him. "See his eyes?" he asked. "He's staring at that chick, in every frame, right?" he pointed to the nonexistent picture and I found myself picking apart what he meant.

"Wow… I never noticed," I murmured, my head spinning. Was he staring at me? When?

The bell rang and I glanced up, realizing then that the classroom was full and Mr. Anderson was walking up to his desk. "Phones, iPods, and whatever else better be in your packs or in your pockets," he said simply and I felt an anxious twitch in my knees, making me feel like I should jump up and run from the room. I didn't feel threatened, per say, more confused than anything else. Why hadn't I noticed him looking at me?

Maybe it was Karl's imagination?

I tried to push the thought from my mind, putting all my focus on the board, but the more Mr. Anderson talked about the problems on the wipe board I found myself more and more transfixed on the teacher, not the problem. He glanced back and my fists clenched painfully tight, his eyes meeting mine dead on, like he'd looked right at my head a million times. He turned away again, looking at the board. "Hannah," he said suddenly and I jumped. "Come on up here," he said.

Karl glanced at me, his eyes narrowed, and I shrugged casually. I walked up slowly, trying not to seem out of sorts as the teacher handed me a green marker. "Solve this problem," he said simply and I blinked, my eyes moving from the marker, up his arm, and finally to his face. When he looked down at me I felt a deep chill in the pit of my stomach, something like being stared down by an angry dog.

I swiped the marker from him, not thinking, and quickly scribbled on the board. He stood a little ways away, watching as I wrote down the last digit of the problem. I capped the marker and handed it back to him. "Good job," he said simply and I blinked, looking back at the board. I realized what had just happened as I looked up, the problem solved. I'd been played, he knew my secret, and that was probably the topic of our talk after class.

I couldn't help walking briskly back to my seat, a few people giving me odd looks; I made it my business too fail, so this was problem something new for everyone.

**Scene End**


	5. Scene 5: Teacher, Student, Confrontation

**Scene 5: Teacher, Student, Confrontation**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

Karl patted my shoulder as the bell rang. "I'm sticking to my theory," he said simply and I frowned a little, my legs held tightly together as I tried to keep myself from running form the classroom.

"I doubt it, Karl," I murmured, watching people packing up for their next class. "I think he's onto me," I grumbled quietly.

"What?" Karl asked, leaning over the desk and smiling at me. "That you're a lazy little fuck?" he teased, his eyes holding that sleepy look I was so used to. He tapped me on top of the head with his notebook, than straightened up with this dreary smirk on his face. "Maybe you'll finally get your dream teacher, eh babe?" he teased then turned and started out of the room along with everyone else.

_Traitor,_ I grumbled internally. I glanced up then, seeing Mr. Anderson walking over. He grabbed a chair and turned it around, sitting on it with is arms resting along the back, looking at me across the table. I tried to be calm, but he made me uncomfortable with those dark eyes, and Karl's little theory wasn't my mind set at all. "So what's up?" I opened simply.

"Do you know what your grade in my class is?" he was frank, straight to the point, and I felt a lot better about the situation knowing this was about my grades. He'd only been here a month now, he didn't know how little I cared, or how little my parents knew… _Heh, if they found out about my grades,_ I pushed the thought from my head. "Last time I checked… Uh," I felt stupid, realizing I hadn't checked my grades since the school year started. I just didn't care.

"An F," he filled in the blank, seeming to notice my lack of one. "But you sit back here with a math book, staring at it, for the entire class period," he said and I felt myself smile a little, that awkward nervousness coming back over me. Karl was right about one thing; he had been looking at me, we just hadn't known it was about my grades.

I chilled myself down, like I'd done when any other teacher had asked about my grades. None of them had ever pulled me aside, sure, but I knew how to talk to them. "You're new," I said simply and he sat a little straighter, watching me. I pushed my chair back against the wall, making it into my favorite in-school recliner. "I probably have an F in every class, not just yours, and everybody knows I don't intend to fix that anytime soon."

"Uh-huh," his voice was sharp and I flinched, my fingers twitching a little. "So you're just being lazy?" he asked, my chair plopping back forward the way it was supposed to be.

"No… Well, I'm not doing the assignments because of the teachers. They treat everybody like crap, and I'm not putting up with it," I countered, feeling offended by his statement. I wasn't lazy, I was a rebel. Huge difference there, certainly, and I was going to stick to my ideals.

He smiled a little at me, his entire disposition coated in a layer of sarcastic goo. "Right," he drawled slowly, teasing me with the slowness of his statement. "The teachers are crappy, so you're sacrificing your grades, grades collages are going to look at, because you're too moody to put up with the staff?" he asked and I stared at him. He stood up, pushed his chair back under the desk in front of me, than looked down at me. "If that's how you're thinking, I'd suggest not coming to school."

"Why?" I stupidly asked.

He placed his hands against the surface of the table, staring at me with those razor sharp brown eyes. "Because I could be dealing with students who actually need my help, instead of wasting my valuable time on some egotistical little shit," no censorship, no honey coated advice. He cut straight down to the bone and then turned and walked away, leaving me wounded.

I pushed my seat back when I stood. "That's not it," I countered, walking briskly to catch up with him as he went back to his desk. "When the teachers are better, my grades will go up," I explained, thinking he'd get it.

He turned on me, looking down sharply. "You know what I want you to do?" he asked, turning to face me fully. "Call up a collage, talk to somebody, and tell them that same thing. Let me know if they laugh," he said and I stared up at him. He headed back over to his desk and sat down, his hands shifting over some papers on his desk; turned in homework assignments. "You're going to run into things you don't want to do your whole life, there's no reason to waste your high school years griping about it now. Save it for the things that'll actually piss you off," he was harsh, despite how smooth his voice was, and it made me mad.

"I don't have to listen to you. I'm old enough to decide on my own," I retorted quickly, walking back to my desk and grabbing my bag, about to leave.

"No, you don't have to listen to me," he said back and I turned, staring him down across the room. He looked at me with dark eyes, like he was scolding a little kid for coloring on the wall. "But while you're in this classroom, while you are my responsibility, you're not going to piss on your assignments," he stood then, challenging me. "Gets you're grades up and get your head out of your ass."

"You're not my dad, I don't have to hear this shit," there was venom in my voice when I replied, and I left the room without so much as a second glance at Mr. Anderson. None of the teachers had challenged me on it, not even the principle had tried to change my way of thinking, but this guy's here a month and he thinks he can tell me what to do?

Isn't that exactly what I wanted?

I shook my head, frustrated with everything, as I headed towards the Art room just in time for the bell to ring. I swore, turning around again, and heading for gym. One more hour and school was done with, the weekend almost here, and I could spend a few days away from that guy.

I felt someone poke my shoulder and I glanced down, seeing Megan bouncing next to me. "What's got you in such a mood?" she asked cutely and I felt my face fall, unsure of how to answer. She stared for a moment then wrapped her arm around mine, pulling me over to her a bit. "Don't worry about it. The days almost over," she grinned at this. "We can go get pizza after this, my treat."

I sighed. "The Megan Lifestyle," I introduced. "Where any and all situations can be improved with pizza," and she laughed as we walked down the hallway.

**Scene End**


	6. Scene 6: The Parent Card

**Scene 6: The Parent Card**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

I walked home from the pizzeria in town, Megan and I having parted ways after lunch. I'd asked if she wanted company on the way home, but she laughed and told me it'd be too much of a trek home for me; she wasn't execrating either. She lived clear across town from my house, and Donny's Pizza was close to an hour away from her house, and forty-five minutes from mine. So, despite my inner-badassitude, I agreed that walking her home was a little bit much.

I sighed a little, stuffing my hands in my pockets, as I thought about my current predicament. I'd always said I wanted a teacher who wouldn't treat kids like they were just part of their paycheck, but now that one of them was actually taking an interest in my schoolwork, in me really, I felt threatened. Maybe he was right in telling me I was lazy, that I was just using that excuse so I wouldn't have to function, and it's not like I ever told my parents what I was planning.

They probably would have transferred me to a different school if I told them that, but I never said anything. I tilted my head back, staring up at the sky for a while as I picked apart what I had claimed to believe, my excuses for ignoring school for the last two years; of course I went to avoid truancy tickets, but given the amount of work I did, I might as well not go at all, like Mr. Anderson said.

I looked ahead again, figuring I'd see my house up ahead, but when I leveled my chin with the ground I saw something odd; in my parents' driveway there sat a big, Ford truck. I walked up slowly, looking at the side where F250 was printed on in bold, silver letters. It was from the 90's for sure, maybe the same year I was born, and it was silver with black trim. The box was in great condition, like it'd never been used, and there was a black brush guard fastened to the front.

Who did I know who drove a truck this size?

I stared at it for a few long moments, trying to think, but nothing came to me, and I shook my head. I decided it must have been one of my dad's friends from work, maybe; but either way, I'd find out as soon as I walked through the front door, my hand on the knob. I pushed it open and kicked off my shoes as I closed it behind me, shrugging my messenger bag to the floor. "I'm home!" I called out, and waited.

"Living room," my dad's voice called back and I headed there obediently, not thinking twice about it until it was too late to reconsider, too late to come up with the excuses I'd need to get out of this. My parents sat on the couch, my dad looking as if he might explode, while my mom sipped at a cup of coffee. On the other side of the room, sitting in one of the recliners, was Mr. Anderson, a cup of coffee resting between his hands. "Sit," my dad commanded and I moved mechanically to the other recliner.

_You're dead, you're totally and completely dead!_ harangued my thoughts, my hands starting to feel cold and numb, anxiety filtering in from the atmosphere. He'd gone to them, the only authority figures I had any respect for, any inclination to listen too, and knew that they would be infuriated. Sure, they never asked about school, or seemed interested, but I'd gone out of my way to embellish my grades a bit here and there; I never said I was a valedictorian, but I certainly didn't mention that I was failing every class either…

"Mr. Anderson here called up this afternoon," my dad said simply, his usually well groomed blonde hair messy, probably from running is hands through it; he always did that when something had him angry or flustered. This was probably a little of both, and judging by the look he was giving me, I'd say there was a fair amount of disappointment in there as well. Dad leaned back against the couch, his hand running through his hair like I'd figured. "Why didn't you tell us you were having problems in school?" his voice was distressed, bouncing around inside of my head while guilt welled up in me, then frustration.

"I'm not struggling with school," I countered quickly, my mouth working before my brain. A stab from my mom's eyes, she was really mad, but I had to pull myself out of the grave, and fast. "Well… Do you remember, that one year, I got into a fight with Mr. Peterson, the Gym teacher?" the subject was brought up tentatively, and both parents nodded.

What had happened with Mr. Peterson was simple enough; I was one of the runty kids in gym, and was constantly having problems, but he never took the time to help me. I complained to my parents about it, and they asked the gym teacher to start taking better care of me, just pay more attention to me in class. He didn't.

I inhaled slowly, preparing my bullshit excuse, and I could tell by that look on Mr. Anderson's face he figured it was going to be pretty damn funny. "After what happened with him, I kinda… Decided… That, well, I wasn't going to put up with him, or any teacher that treated me like that," I explained delicately, and mom's eyes drilled into mine. "I know it sounds stupid, but I figured-"

"That you'd just throw your entire life away?" my dad filled in, his hands sitting precariously on his knees, like he might strike out at something; namely me. "Hannah, not doing your work doesn't hurt the teachers, it hurts you, and us," he said, gesturing from me, to Mr. Anderson, and then to him and my mother. "What do you think you're teachers think of me and your mother? Not highly I'm sure," he was mad now, standing up. I flinched as he stormed out of the room, slamming a door as he went.

"Han," Mom said calmly, setting her coffee cup down on the table, her focus entirely on me. "If you needed a tutor for school-"

"I don't need a tutor!" I shouted this time, standing up like dad had done. "Mom, I'm not failing because I'm dumb, I'm failing because I want too!" she looked up at me, unimpressed with my display, and I realized then that this was Mr. Anderson's plan all along; to make me look like an ass, or maybe just an idiot, in front of my parents. They thought I was failing because I couldn't handle school… I sat back down, slowly, and exhaled through my nose. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to yell," and I hadn't, not at her anyway. It was Mr. Anderson I was should have been tearing into.

"Go apologize to your father," it was a command, not a suggestion, which implied I was in a heap of trouble. I nodded somberly and stood, but made an effort to shoot Mr. Anderson a hard, sideways glance. If He thought he was going to win this, he was wrong.

**Scene End**


	7. Scene 7: The Weather Outside Is Frightfu

**Scene 7: The Weather Outside Is Frightful...**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

"Oh, the weather outside is frightful!"

"Megan…"

"But the fire is SOOOO delightful-!"

"Megan."

"But as long as you LOVE ME SOOO, let it snow, let it snow, let it-"

"MEGAN!" I finally snapped and she giggled, skipping through the powdery clouds that she kicked up as we walked. There was five weeks left in the quarter, and I was looking forward to Christmas break, or maybe a snow day; anything to get me out of school. "Please, PLEASE, let me stumble the rest of the way in peace," I said calmly and she laughed again.

The confrontation with my parents had been weeks ago now, and my dad was still pretty pissed at me for lying to them, but I'd shocked them senseless with my following report cards. I had torn into Mr. Anderson, and all of my teachers, demanding all of the assignments I had missed, and in just one extremely sleep deprived week and a half I was caught up on just about everything.

…

_My mom looked like she was about to burst into tears, seeing the list of Cs and Bs. They had gone in and gotten my previous report cards, seeing all of my Fs, but now my grades were going up, and steadily. Dad wasn't real impressed, visually, but I could see the slight glimmer in his eyes. It didn't matter how mad he was at me then, he was proud of me now._

_I stuffed my hands in my pockets, trying to seem like it didn't mean anything to me. "I told you I don't need a tutor… I told you," I murmured and mom smiled at me. She knew it, dad knew it, but I wasn't out of the woods yet…_

…

I grumbled a little to myself. "My fucking balls are gonna freeze off," I hissed through gritted teeth, a cloud of steam fluttering about, and Megan pretty much told me to fuck off as she skidded gracefully across the black ice, her shoes barely leaving a mark. Meanwhile, I was stumbling through the snow, still not confidant enough to try my hand at walking on the ice.

"Because you're obviously a boy," she said teasingly as she snatched me by the hand, dragging me out onto the sidewalk with surprising ease. I slipped almost instantly, but Megan had me steadied, laughing at me. "Come on, we never get to walk to school together, have a little fun!" she was laughing in between her words and I wondered if she'd ever grow up…

I smiled a little despite myself. _Probably not,_ my thoughts teased.

I noticed a grey truck in my peripheral vision, Mr. Anderson behind the wheel. He glanced at me the same time I looked at him, and I glared at him, my heart rate pumping up. He'd pushed me to a limit, and now he was challenging me at every turn. My assignments in his class were harder and harder every day; he didn't give me time to adjust, he shoved something new down my throat, and I tried my best to combat everything because I felt like if I didn't, I'd lose…

_Not entirely sure what I'm losing, exactly, but that's not what matters,_ I reminded myself, Megan having left me behind so she could do a few dangerous looking pirouettes up ahead of me. She stopped suddenly, face to face with me, and I smiled a little. "You done?" I asked and she huffed. "Awesome. Can I walk in the snow now?"

"You're such a baby," she whined, letting me walk beside her in the safety of the snow drifts, her eyes trained on me. "So how's the Anderson thing going?" she asked and I put a hand up, suggesting the subject be dropped. She grinned at me. "All As yet?" she meowed and I shot her a look, but she just kept grinning at me.

"Bs, mostly, and the one A in World History," I murmured quietly, noticing a few kids walking up the other side of the street. I didn't really feel like getting harassed about my sudden urge to over achieve, and I said as much to the teachers. Of course, Mrs. Warren accused me of cheating, writing answers on my arm, so on and so forth, and I told her I'd come to her during my study hall today, just to get her out of my fucking face.

"Well well well," her voice came out like a little song, and she grabbed me again, swinging me around on the ice and I yelped when she let go, letting me fall into a massive heap of snow at the end of someone's driveway. "Another week of this and you'll be a straight A student," she looked like she might tackle me, but I scrambled to my feet, shuddering as I tried to get snow out of the bottom of my coat. "Aw, I'm so proud of you!" she hugged me quickly then grabbed my hand, pulling me down the sidewalk as if the ice didn't exist.

Once we got to the school parking lot she let go again and I skidded, but managed to stay standing. It was barely seven o'clock, so I wasn't worried about being late, no, I was more concerned with Megan letting me fall and crack my head open. "Megan, do you ice skate or something?" I asked sarcastically as she spun around in a nearly perfect circle.

"Rocking around the Christmas tree," she sang in reply and I slammed my hands over my ears.

"Enough with the Christmas music!" I roared and she cackled in the most innocent way anyone could ever manage, sliding away from me as I grabbed at her, seriously considering smashing her head into the pavement a few times… Maybe she'd forget that damn music.

I chased her to the front door, amazingly staying on my feet the entire way there. I stumbled up the stairs, turned, and dropped on my ass, breathing heavily. "Fuck, where do you get the energy?" I asked as she reached down, offering me a hand up. She yanked me up easily and I stretched, walking up to the door with her walking next to me like my side kick or something.

"I go to bed at a reasonable hour," she countered and I flipped her off. We walked through the front door and I unzipped my coat quickly, letting my bag plop to the floor while I peeled off a few layers. Megan stood by, her coat thinner than mine, but still relatively warm. "And I don't get up at three to put on my armor," she had her arms over her chest, watching me as I picked up my coat and folded it over my shoulder.

"Fuck you, it's freezing outside," was all I said as we parted ways to get to our lockers. I took a deep breath as Mrs. Warren walked by me, her eyes darting to me for a moment, before she went along her way, ignoring me again. _And fuck you too,_ I thought, glancing over my shoulder her.

From there, the day crept by slowly; Foods was uneventful, English was spent trying to ignore the dirty looks Mrs. Warren was giving me, and my ass was sitting in history with Megan and Karl on either side of me. "God… I want today to be over," Karl groaned quietly, his head tilted back far enough for his Adam's apple to be peeping up. "Like, right now," he shot up then, leaning on his desk.

He hated this class the most because he had to behave here, his dad being the teacher.

I shrugged as I worked with a pair of scissors; I was cutting out a few colorful shapes for some stupid, third-grader project we'd been assigned. "Well, at least you got us here," I said sarcastically and Karl slammed his head down hard on the table, grumbling quietly in what he'd claimed a summer ago to be Portuguese. "Oh, and you don't have to go and have Mrs. Warren stare over your should for an entire hour," I added, earning his attention again.

"Why do you have too?" he asked curiously, Megan glancing up from her sharpie scribbles.

I passed her two large squares of colored paper, shifting around my scrapes in search of more useable materials. "Because, since I'm motivated to work on my school work for once, she thinks I must be cheating, so she wanted me to come in today so she could watch me do a worksheet."

"Sounds fun," Megan chimed, her face down as her hand trailed slowly down one edge of the paper.

"Oodles," was the only word that came to mind, my arm brushing across the table while I glanced over to my friend. "Hurry up, we're almost out of time," I reminded her and her head popped up, probably to look at the clock, and then she was back and packing up all of our materials. I continued moving my arm across the table, pushing our garbage into one pile while Karl stole a waste basket from someone.

Clean up only took about a minute and half, giving us plenty of time to pack up all our crap, but I found myself moving abnormally slow; probably from the idea of spending an hour with no one other than Mrs. Warren. _Heh, I bet even Mr. Anderson would cringe at that thought,_ my thoughts joked and I smiled a little, stuffing one more book in my bag as the bell rang. I hang the strap over my shoulder and made my way towards the door, waving goodbye to Megan and Karl, both going down separate hallways.

Mrs. Warren was at the other end of the hall, obviously not patient enough to let me peacefully walk from one class to another. "Something you need?" I asked casually, but I didn't try to stop the slight hiss that came under my tone.

"We have an appointment, remember?" her voice was curt and her gestures brass, but they still implied that I was meant to follow her, and I crossed my finger over my chest a few times, wondering if praying would be enough to protect me from Mrs. Warren.

**Scene End**


	8. Scene 8: Mr Anderson

**Scene 8: Mr. Anderson**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

She was practically breathing down my neck as I scribbled down one of the last answers on the worksheet Mrs. Warren had prepared especially for this occasion. I could sense how angry she was as I finished the last problem, Mrs. Warren yanking the paper out from beneath my pencil before I could dot down a period. She looked it over, her knuckles getting whiter and whiter as she stared at the sheet. "I want you to come in tomorrow-"

"Oh hell no," I countered quickly and climbed to my feet, the chair squealing in protest. "You were sitting there the whole fucking time, I'm not doing this shit again. I've got other homework, other assignments, and better things to do," I hissed then snatched up my bag from the floor. She followed me to the door, her uneven stride somehow irritating me more than ever before.

"How dare you talk to me like that," she said and surprised me when she grabbed my arm, pulling me back a step. "Listen here, young lady," she scolded, a single finger pointed dangerously close to my face. I was about ready to snap on her, and she just didn't see that. "You expect me to believe that after all these years you've suddenly turned over a new leaf?" she questioned harshly and I felt my fist clench…

Yeah, that was exactly what I expected, because I was actually working my ass off to catch up, but obviously nothing I do is good enough for anyone…

My arm shifted a little and drew back, and Mrs. Warren looked shocked; I was about to deck her in the face, but a heavy hand on my shoulder chilled me straight down to the core. Mrs. Warren looked surprised as she stared over my shoulder and I glanced back, seeing the familiar face of Mr. Anderson, his dark eyes focused on my English teacher. "Sometimes it takes a while for a kid to pull their head out of their ass, right, Hannah?"

My jaw must have come unhinged for a minute there, but I managed to keep myself from looking totally stupid, and shrugged his hand away. "Yeah, sure," I said and then backed past him, away from Mrs. Warren, and then turned and started down the hall. "I'm gonna be late for class," I lied again, my next period being lunch.

I didn't look back as I practically jogged down the hall way, my mind set feeling vicious as images of a sledgehammer being dropped on Mrs. Warren's head ran through my mind. Anyway, with the brisk pace I was maintaining, I reached the lunch room in record time, but found that my stomach was doing cartwheels; nothing looked appetizing, or even edible, at that moment, so instead I glanced around until I saw Megan's lime green bandana.

One reason I liked having her as a friend was she seemed to have this sixth sense for my anger; she turned in her seat before I was even ten feet from her, and climbed up, moving quickly towards me. "Was it that bad?" she asked as she looped her arm with mine, leading me to our usual table.

"Eh, Mr. Anderson stepped in," sure, it'd been surprising, but the look that slipped across Megan's face baffled me. I mean, I knew she didn't particularly care for the guy, but she looked at me as if he'd tried to get in my pants or something… Okay, ew, scratch that from your memories right now…

"Hannah," she said slowly then sat down close to me, leaning forward a bit so her words couldn't be heard by a nosey passerby. "I think you should be careful around Mr. Anderson," she said quietly and I groaned loudly, pulling away from her enough that I had a forearms length of space to myself.

"Agh, not you too!" it was causing me a stomach act, the idea I mean. "Karl thinks the same-"

"No no, not that!" she flailed her hands at me, shushing me, and I couldn't help but think of a small cat whacking at a butterfly. She reached up, resting her hands on top of her head, her fingers laced together. "Do you remember two summers ago when that rumor about your parents got started?" she questioned and I nodded; how could I forget?

That was the year they told me I was adopted. I mean, I always knew; dad with honey blonde hair and mom was a red head? Yeah, I don't think so, but we'd had a massive blow out after that, my parents and me I mean. I was so angry with them for not telling me, especially since it was so obvious, and school was hellish for at least five months after that; everybody wanting to pity me or start a fight because I was adopted.

Fuck 'em.

Megan leaned up again, her hands resting in her lap as she whispered. "He kinda looks like you."

"No he doesn't," I countered thoughtlessly, seeing no resemblance between us. The only thing we had in common was the slight grey in our complexion, otherwise there wasn't anything comparable; his face, build, and everything about him was completely different than me. Despite all this, her eyes looked pleading. "Megan," I said in all seriousness. "Why would it even matter?"

"Maybe he's like, you know, your dad or something!" she was still whispering, but I was laughing.

"Dude, he's not even thirty… Hell he's-" the pause wasn't intentional, but the thought that occurred to me then was looming. He did look like someone I knew, I just couldn't place it at that moment. Someone I knew really well, that I'd seen recently even. "Actually… He kinda does look familiar," it was encouraging her behavior, but she picked up on my feelings quickly enough.

"Wait, what do you mean?" she asked, sitting back and letting me have my space.

"I'm not sure… He just… Looks familiar I guess, like I've seen his face in a magazine or something," I said then stood up, feeling my anger mostly dissipate. "Never mind, it's probably nothing," I said, thinking about finally going up and grabbing a snack, but when I turned to start heading up to the cafeteria line up I saw Mr. Ludeke by the door with Mrs. Warren. He saw me then and I felt my fingers twitch when he gestured me over.

Megan popped up a bit, looking over everyone's head, then her eyes traveled up to my face. "What happened?" she squeaked, but I just shook my head and started towards Mrs. Warren and the school's Principal.

Mr. Ludeke nodded to me and we walked out of the cafeteria and into the much less crowded hallway. "Hannah," he said calmly as I slid my hands into my pockets, ignoring Mrs. Warren completely. He sighed quietly, his hand going up to his temple. "Mrs. Warren tells me you were going to strike her," he said and I stared at him, my mind set faltering for a few seconds.

"I thought about it, yeah, but only after she yanked me back into her classroom," I explained simply, my hands still in my pockets. Mr. Ludeke had always been known for being pretty passive, only ever expelling one kid after he broke the windows out of his car; in this case, I didn't see myself getting into a lot of trouble because I didn't swing, or rather couldn't swing. "I didn't touch her though, wouldn't want to," I said pointedly, earning a stern glare from said teacher.

"I see, well," he inhaled slowly. "I'm going to ask you to head home for today… We've talked about your anger in the past Hannah, but directing it towards a teacher?" his tone was even and I could feel my hands starting to shake. He had his arms folded over his chest, looking down at me like I'd actually struck Mrs. Warren. "You're on three day suspension, which in the meantime I'm going to suggest to your parents that they- Hannah!"

I was already moving, my feet carrying me down the hall; of course he'd side with her. Why would he even think about helping me?

My mind was blurring out, my anger fueling me forward, and I felt like I was walking with my eyes closed… No idea where I was heading.

**Scene End**


	9. Scene 9: The New Girl?

**Author's Note:** _So, I'd like to throw a thank you out there to everybody who has stopped in so far, and a special thanks out to Forever-Buckskin, who was the first review this story has gotten here on FF :D Sorry for calling you out, but I really appreciate you dropping in!_

_So, with all that said, thanks again everybody for taking some time out of your day to read my fanfic! It is appreciated, and I promise things will EVENTUALLY get interesting! XD_

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**Scene 9: The New Girl?**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

I had to stop, take a few deep breaths, and try to compose myself, but I couldn't focus on anything. I felt like I was under water, disorientated, and trying to figure out which way was up.

I'd always had this problem, the random angry mood swings here and there, the brief black outs and the delirium... I'd almost put my fist through this Emily girl's head last year because she had been harassing me for weeks, accusing me of screwing Karl when she wanted him. I'd blacked out for a second, coming back to reality shortly after my fist connected with a solid surface.

I hit a locker instead, dented it up pretty good, and busted my hand all too shit. My parents wanted to put me into anger management classes after that, the guidance counselor wanted me put on behavioral meds, and I told everybody it wouldn't happen again, and it hadn't…

Mostly.

I flinched then, realizing my hand was bleeding. I glanced up and realized I was in the gym, nowhere near the cafeteria that I had fled from. I flicked my hand back and forth a bit, looking around to see what I had swung at while in my delirious little state. I could see drops of blood on the pristine gym floor, so I followed them over to the benches where there was a nice bloody smear, my fist having connected with the back corner of the bench.

"Nice," I murmured, shacking my hand back and forth a few more times.

Sound caught my attention and I turned sharply, looking over to one of the three entrances; leaning against the door frame there stood a girl. She was probably a year or so younger than me with a very slight, seemingly flat frame, her hair somewhere between ash or graphite grey, cut to be about shoulder length, and then pulled back into a low set ponytail; she wore a tight, black shirt that read "Peace Maker" on the front in green and white letters, blue jeans, and sneakers. "Are you okay?" she asked suddenly, her voice surprisingly lower than I thought it would be.

I nodded, flinching as I rubbed the fresh wound against my pants. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said evenly, pulling my sleeve down over my hand when I noticed her eyeing it. "I haven't seen you before," time to change the subject, that's what I figured anyway as I walked up to her.

"Oh, yeah, I started earlier this year. I'm a junior, but they hadn't decided that until recently," she explained, smiling up at me.

She was friendly, but nothing like a normal friendly… She gave me an odd vibe, like she could read my mind, or was seriously trying to. Maybe she was?

"Huh, that explains it," I shrugged off my suspicions and offered my good hand. "I'm Hannah Batson," I introduced with a slight smile, trying to be a little more friendly than I normally would have been, especially now.

"Nice to meet you," she responded, taking my hand with a firm grip. "I'm Noah Anderson."

I paused, staring for a few seconds. "Anderson?" I asked slowly. "Like Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes, exactly. He's my uncle," was the explanation and I felt my hand twitch in my pocket, shocked by this tiny kid. There was no family resemblance to be seen, the complexions completely different, the attitudes and builds totally opposite; hell, the only thing they had in common was their brown eyes. Those looked like they'd been copy and pasted onto Noah's face.

"He hasn't been giving you a hard time, has he?" inquired Noah, her brown eyes glimmering despite the lack of light in the gym, almost all of the lights off when it wasn't in use. I laughed at this, not sure of what to say, and Noah just smiled with this odd, knowing look. "That bad, huh?"

"Kinda," I confessed and she smiled at me again.

"He means well, honest," she crossed a finger over her heart when she said this then gestured that we walk together, her odd friendliness pulling me away from my anger and calming me to the point of total surprise. "So what's your next class?"

"Actually I got a three day suspension. Probably shouldn't even be in the school anymore," I confessed quietly and Noah nodded, totally understanding.

She stopped on the line of the door frame, smiling delicately at me. "Can I walk you to your locker then?"

"Uh, sure," could I say no? I didn't feel like it because of how friendly she was being, and the fact that she was Mr. Anderson niece wasn't helping my predicament at all either. I mean, he seemed like the type of guy who might break some poor sucker's neck for fucking around with his family, and I wasn't about to be that sucker.

Thankfully, we were walking around during the in between class period and the halls were completely dead, leaving just the two of us to walk in relative silence; something she didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, she walked along side me something like Megan might when I was in a bad mood, chill and easy to be around, just a relaxing aura to merge with my hostile one, neutralizing it…

We reached my locker and I kicked in the comb, pulling it open much more delicately than I thought I might have. Noah stood by quietly, watching as if she were studying my hands; I felt like she was observing something about me, something deeper than just how I was moving, or even how I was talking. A little bit like Mr. Anderson had been doing the last three months…

"So how long have you been going to school here?" she asked suddenly and I glanced up.

I shrugged casually, feeling myself grow a bit numb. "Most of life, I guess," I responded mechanically.

"Do your parents like it here?" she asked as I stuffed a few books and a folder full of assignments into my messenger bag. "I mean, if it's okay that I ask?" she was so polite, like abnormally courteous despite the look of her. She was dressed so punky and modern, like normal preppy bitches, but she talked and acted like a secretary, or someone who might check you into a hospital.

"Yeah, my parents grew up here so they both love it," though that wasn't to say I liked this town. It was the school that really irked me, especially lately. I was just getting sick of being here, even after I cleaned up my act; courteous of our school's _dear_ Mr. Anderson.

I'm sure you couldn't sense the sarcasm to that at all.

I stood then, stretching my arms over my head. "Well, Noah, right?" I asked, glancing down at her. She nodded to and I smiled a little. "Where are you and Mr. Anderson from?"

"Oh, well, we're both from the St. Joseph area, Missouri," she said simply and I paused, glancing down again. _Missouri?_ my thoughts echoed, my head replaying all of the conversations I'd had with Mr. Anderson over the last three months; neither of them, Noah or him, had a Missouri accent. My uncle Billy, my mom's brother was from the very northern tip of the state and he had an accent… Just slightly southern, sprinkled on really, but it was still noticeable… Not to mention St Joseph, if I recall, was quite a bit further south than Uncle Billy was living…

I ran my hand through my hair, deciding I was reading way too deep into some minimal things. _Not everybody has an accent, Hannah. You're just trying to find something to grapple with,_ my thoughts cooed reassuringly, but even they sounded a bit suspicious.

"Do you need a ride home?" Noah asked suddenly and I blinked, glancing down at her.

"You have your license?" she just looked too small to be driving.

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm on study hall and I have nothing to do. I'd love to give you a ride," she said and I shrugged, gesturing her lead the way. She walked past me and I followed closely behind, finding myself studying her; the more I looked at this girl, the less and less I thought she was related to Mr. Anderson. He was colored a lot like me, greyish in complexion, yet dark, and he had the muscle tone of a marine or cop, basically someone who kicked ass for a living… Noah looked more like a cute little bunny rabbit.

We walked out a side door and she lead me to a Volkswagen Beetle; it was a jade green color with black trim, the seats black, and the windows all slightly tinted. I glanced at the back and noticed there was a sticker of a small rabbit, its head tilted down as if it were sniffing something on the ground.

I paused then, staring at that sticker for a long time.

"Noah," I murmured, glancing at her. "That's kind of an odd name for a girl, don't you think?" I asked with a slight smile, but I had to stuff my hands into my pockets to hide the quiver that had come to them.

She turned then and blinked innocently, like a deer caught in the headlights, but then she offered me this adorable little grin. "Oh, well… Actually," she rubbed the side of her neck, looking embarrassed. "I'm a boy."

Every nerve in my body seemed to want to lock up, like I'd been struck, but I managed to keep it all down as I realized why he looked so ungodly familiar… It wasn't that I was reading too much into it, it was that I had already read it...

**Scene End**


	10. Scene 10: Coincidence? Maybe

**Scene 10: Coincidence? Highly Probable **

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

It was satisfying to slam my clenched fist into a 100 pound bag and not feel a thing, but the bag swaying back and forth in defeat as I delivered one swift strike after another. Left left, right, left again, and I breathed out before grabbing the bag and slamming my knee into twice, hard, than jumped back. Megan sat on the hood of my dad's jeep, staring at one of the early volumes of the Naruto Manga.

"I guess I can see it," she murmured as she flipped through a few pages. "I don't know Hannah, isn't that kinda… Impossible?" her voice was just barely above a squeak, probably hoping not to upset me.

I slammed down hard on my heel and spun, slamming the back of my foot into the bag and watched it sail back and forth. My feet planted hard on the floor then and I slammed two hard left hooks into it, feeling my aggression melting away as I whaled on the bag. "Yeah, a little impossible," I said then stepped back a few steps, letting myself breath and flex my fingers, in and out so the tape wouldn't constrict them too much. "But you gotta admit, they look identical," I shifted on the balls of my feet, my eyes moving to her for only a moment.

"Hannah," Megan groaned loudly as she fell back dramatically against the windshield. "That Noah kid, okay, yeah, it's weird that he's so girly and whatever, but he doesn't look _that_ much like Haku. And Mr. Anderson's teeth aren't all… Spikey," she said, her fingers flicking in and out when she was talking about Mr. Anderson teeth.

"Megan, that's not the point," I felt like I a mental patient trying to explain the ghost that jumped out at me the night before. I was frustrated about this, and maybe it was stupid, but it was just so odd; and it wasn't like I was saying they were them, I just thought it was strange how much Noah and Mr. Anderson looked like characters from a manga. "They're just odd. You don't see it at all?"

She sat up and dropped down to the cement floor, staring at me. "Maybe you're just thinking too hard," she suggested and I threw my arms up in the air again, an infuriated groan escaping me. She pranced over, her tiny frame practically floating. Once she was close she poked me in the forehead, a reach for her considering our height difference. "Or maybe you're still mad at Mr. Anderson for getting you in trouble with your folks?"

I swatted her hand away as gently as I could in my irritated state. "Yeah, maybe, but you know-"

"It happens, Hannah, that's why things have the _any 'persons living or dead'_ disclaimer! I mean, if I dyed my hair pink and cut it short I'd look just like Sakura," she said and I frowned at her, subconsciously noting the odd freckles on the one side of her face. It was always strange to me that she only had freckles on the one side…

"No, no you wouldn't," my tone was a cross between annoyed and sarcastic, but she smiled at me none the less.

"You know what I meant," she said flatly, her hip cocked as she placed her hands on her waist. "Anyway, I gotta get heading home, choirs to do, sidewalks to shovel," she said with a little wave of her hand, pretending to be enthused about the idea of yard work. "Don't be too rough on the bag, if you can help it," she teased and I waved her off as she skipped towards the garage door, swinging her coat around her shoulders as she disappeared out into the snow.

After she was gone I plopped myself down on a lawn chair I'd set up a few hours earlier, my back and shoulders practically sighing as I took a break. My brain started churning as I looked at the bag, not really seeing it as thoughts tumbled over the information my mind had scrounged up. Noah not only looked like Haku, but he even had the rabbit thing on his car. It was just too perfect; I paused then, considering if he'd been driving a Volkswagen Rabbit instead. Then it really would have been perfect…

But anyway, Mr. Anderson reminded me a lot of Zabuza; his demeanor, the way he addressed people, and how he handled us. He wasn't like any teacher I'd ever had before, or Karl who'd been in and out of five different schools. He said Mr. Anderson was a major hard ass, a good teacher, but a hard ass.

I stood slowly, flexing my fingers a bit as I approached the bag and debated on how I would approach this situation. With a sharp jolt in my right shoulder, I slammed my clenched fist into the canvas, and debated on weather Megan was right, or maybe I was just not sleeping enough, hell, maybe even Mrs. Warren was finally getting to me.

It was frustrating when it really shouldn't have been, and it should have been easy to handle something, even if it was a little bizarre; but no, something so impossible should have been dismissed from my mind immediately. I felt my other hand connect as my thoughts traveled to my conscious mind, and decided it must have been the way Noah acted and how he looked, how Mr. Anderson had shown himself to us. None of it fit and it was driving me bat shit crazy when I tried to put myself to bed at night.

"Damnit!" I snapped suddenly, slamming my shin into the bag hard enough that it came flying back at me with some wicked speed, attempting to knock me on my ass, but I threw my arms up and blocked, stopping it completely.

"You got a lot of anger, Han," mom's voice broke my haze and I glanced over my shoulder at her, my breathing uneven. I'd been out here for a good five or so hours, my knuckles bloodied and my wrists completely numb; callused or not, the skin on my knuckles still broke from the force I was putting behind my punches, and I could see it was worrying mom.

"Yeah, school," I said slowly, trying to level out my breathing so I didn't sound out of breath, my fingers working their way over the white tap around my hands. "I think Mrs. Warren is out to get me," I tried to joke, and she smiled, but something was bothering her.

"Mr. Ludeke called, asked me to put you in some classes," she said calmly and I nodded as I bundled up the tap. "Hannah, you know you can always talk to me."

"I know, and I do," it was meant to sound reassuring, but it sounded more like an excuse for my attitude.

"And I appreciate it," she said as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder. She kissed the top of my head and smiled at me, then let go and started for the door. I felt a bit numb, feeling like my efforts to please my parents were going down the drain, but Mom turned around in the door way and gave me a sidelong smirk. "And don't worry, Mrs. Warren was psychotic when I was in high school too."

I laughed as she closed the door, a weight lifted from my shoulders.

**Scene End**


	11. Scene 11: Solid Conclusions

**Author's Note:**_ So, I'd like to throw another shout out to **NeverRunningInk** for being my second reviewer! I appreciate your honesty more than you can possibly imagine, along with you detailed reviews! Thanks for both!_

_With that said, I'd like to say we're officially caught up with the TONFA version of this, which means this chapter is entirely new to the internet :D I'm a little excited to have passed this point, and I'd like to say thanks again to everyone who has stopped in and read this so far!_

_Ok, enough of my babbling! Read on reader!_

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**Scene 11: Solid Conclusions**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

The last day of my three day suspension; all my homework for the three days was done, any chores I could have ever possibly done were finished or swept under the rug, and my fists were worn so raw that going after the punching bag in the garage just seemed like a bad idea. So what did that leave me with? Not a whole lot as I wandered around town in search of something to waste my time on, but it wasn't so bad to be the only kid out on the street, what with school still going for another forty-five minutes.

I watched a thin cloud of steam swirl about from my lips as I exhaled, my thoughts dipping back to Megan and her reaction to my discovery; something about it seemed wrong to me. Any other time I showed some kind of interest in the Naruto manga, she'd flipped out almost completely with enthusiasm, like me reading it would save my everlasting soul or something.

That's how seriously she took the whole thing.

But when I confronted her with what I thought about Mr. Anderson and Noah, she'd seemed more abrasive than excited, like… Like she already knew something about them that I didn't. I shuddered at the thought of her somehow being involved, but the idea was pushed aside damn near as quick as it popped into my head. I didn't even want to think of Megan being anything other than, well, Megan.

I glanced up, curious of where I'd ended up, and I could see a playground up ahead of me; it'd been a few months since I'd come here, because of the snow, of course, so it was completely abandoned and the snow came up almost to my knees as I pushed towards one of the play-sets; It was all a grey wood, standing maybe fifteen feet high, with a rope bridge that swayed and buckled when kids ran across it, and it had three slides branching off the highest part of the set. The lowest was just inches above my head, a firemen's pole coming off a support beam.

My arms grabbed the edge of the lowest platform, the muscles in my shoulders tightening, and I yanked myself up and onto the platform covered in snow. I got a pretty good face full, but I didn't mind too much; I stood and brushed off some of the snow then ran across the bridge, watching snow and thin icicles fall silently into the thick sheet below, while the bridge rattled and shook against the soles of my boots.

I ducked under the roof of the tallest platform, being too tall for it, and I sat where there was no snow. The park was totally deserted, making it the perfect place for me to sit and think. _And think I shall,_ I reminded myself as I my fingers dipped into the snow still weakly clinging to the bridge. I crushed it into a ball in the palm of my hand, staring at my knuckles as I started to think.

Megan was one of my very few friends, namely it was her and Karl, so of course I trusted her with almost everything. I'd never had any reason to doubt her until now, and suddenly I found myself really wondering. I didn't know anything about Megan, really, other than she moved here from California and her mom wasn't home a lot because of her job.

I sighed loudly, sticking my legs down the slide, and laid flat on the ice cold metal. My hand was now numb from the snow, my head wanting to be the same way as I thought of Mr. Anderson and Noah's circumstances; I didn't know anything about them, no one did for the most part. They just appeared, much like Megan, and I was finding that the coincidences were making me feel sick.

I sat up and looked down at my hand, water dripping weakly from between my knuckles as the heat from my body melted the snow. I inhaled slowly, focusing mostly on my hand, and watched as the drips stopped falling, like they were instantly frozen. "I need to know," I said aloud as I opened my hand again, staring at the chunks and odd shaped bits.

This was something I'd always known how to do, something no one knew I could do, and it was how I made my jewelry; I couldn't explain it if I tried, where it came from I mean, but as I stared down at the jagged, clear chunks I knew this was the most unique thing about me. I could change liquid into a solid, shiny substance. It looked like serrated pieces of gem stone, different liquids turning different colors, but I could manipulate that some too.

I shifted the stones around in my hand, noticing their diamond like qualities; I'd taken them to a pawn shop once, just one, and the dealer told me that it was relatively poorly cut diamond; if it'd been refined a bit, it'd been worth quite a bit, but I wasn't about to go drawing that much attention to myself. Besides, I'd take them home and drill holes through them, polish them a bit more, and I'd force them into the shapes I wanted so I could make another bracelet.

Thinking about it now, I knew this one would be for Noah.

I stuffed the stones in my pocket, wondering about Megan some more as I slid down the slide and into the snow. _Megan knows something, I think, and so do they… It's just a matter of who cracks first,_ I thought as I rubbed my thumb over a freshly created stone. I was going to make a bracelet for Noah in hopes of kind of gaining his trust, and also because I really doubted Haku would turn down a gift from someone.

It was really just an excuse to get to know him better, to see if he was really who I thought he was. _I'm not that weird… I just want answers,_ I reasoned with myself silently. _How many fanfictions have I read where the main character comes to some kind of oddball conclusion like this?_ Was the internal argument I made. I chuckled a little to myself afterward though, realizing for the first time that I was probably a lot more into the Naruto franchise than I'd ever really admitted.

I stuffed the stones into my pocket, reaching down again to grab another fistful of snow. This handful, I ate, and enjoyed its coldness against the roof of my mouth as I walked; I'd make lunch when I got home, then probably take a bunch of snow and pour juice over it; best winter treat ever, 80% natural slushy… 95% depending on how cheap you are.

My watch started beeping, alerting me that it was now 3:15 PM and everybody would be getting out of school in just a few more minutes. My fingers traced my temple as I thought about school, having kind of enjoyed my three day vacation, I was seriously considering bugging my mom to put me down for homeschooling; I was probably more likely to get the work done if I was my own teacher, you know?

I paced myself until I was a couple of blocks from the school, and picked a four way intersection with one stop sign. I'd wait here for either Megan or Karl to walk by; Megan worked at the grocery store part time, but since I hadn't been in school, I didn't know if she worked today not. This meant that she'd either walk down main street to go home, or take fifth to go to the store for her shift. Karl lived on this street a few blocks down, so if he didn't have plans I'd run into him.

Worse case scenario, I'd just stand here for a while and look like an idiot, in which case I'd walk home and start working on my next bracelet. I had to get home and turn some mixed Kool-aid into stones as well, wanting to find some green ones to go with the slightly milky ones I'd just made; I mean, yeah, I could just use food coloring to get the colors I wanted, but this wasn't effort free, and kool-aids a really cheap, easy to make beverage…

I sighed again, glancing up the street as kids started filtering out of the school. I waited about five minutes until I saw Karl walking, his head bobbing to music I could hear from almost five feet away. "I'm sure that's great for your hearing," I waved as he pulled his headphones down, Karl rolling his eyes at my comment.

"I'm seventeen, my health is shot from this point on anyway," he shrugged casually as he met me on the sidewalk, the two of us starting down, and ignoring the clicks of kids that walked around us. "So, how's suspension treating you, babe?"

"Not so bad, I guess," I responded shortly and he smiled at me, his eyes sleepier than usual. I punched him in the arm and we both laughed like idiots. "How was school without me?"

"Horrible, completely unbearable in fact," Karl didn't usually resort to straight sarcasm, he always made sure you knew he was kidding, but after inspecting him for a few more seconds I realized he was being totally serious. I stared at him expectantly, waiting for some kind of explanation. Karl dug out his iPod and downed the volume on what sounded like Disturbed, than looked at me pointedly. "Mr. Anderson asked me, me specifically, why you weren't in school. Every time he saw me."

"Okay, what really happened?" I wasn't kidding.

"Babe, this ain't shit to fuck with," he looked down the street now, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I told him you got suspended and, rumor has it, he went and flipped out on Mrs. Warren and the Principal," Karl glanced at me from the corner of his eye, his brow creased suspiciously. "Dude has a freakish amount of concern for you, straight up. It's creepy," then he punched me in the arm. "I'd start carrying mace if I were you."

"Fuck you, Karl," I punched him back, lightly, but I could feel the color draining from my face. "… What was the rumor?" I couldn't help but be a little curious.

The blonde glanced at me sideways, looking a little disgruntled. "Mr. Anderson went up to the office and demanded to talk to Mr. Ludeke. Some kid, Ashley Martin I think, was sitting in the waiting room when this all went down-" he'd pulled his headphones away from his neck, his free hand turning his music off. "-Anyway, she said he went in there and told Mr. Ludeke he wasn't protecting his students' best interests. He said you were trying to get better in class, but teachers like Mrs. Warren were discouraging you," Karl's hand were stuffed in his pockets, his eyes looking down the street.

"So yeah, long story short, Mr. Anderson was wickedly pissed and Mr. Ludeke hates him now," he glanced at me now, looking sleepy again. He looked like he was about to say something to me, but a sound from behind us drew our attention.

A colorful blob tackled Karl enthusiastically, grinning wildly. My first thought wasn't so much a cognitive sentence, but more of a burning feeling like irritation; Megan bounced up, turning swiftly, and grinning at me, and for some reason I just really wasn't in the mood for her right now.

"Don't look at me like that," she said simply and I turned my head, looking down at the stop sign a block away. She peeked into my vision again. "Hannah, can we hang out today?"

I paused, glancing down at her. "Why?"

She threw her hands up into the air, nearly blocking the view of Mr. Anderson driving by. "Because I haven't seen you in like three whole days!" she acted like this was a travesty. "That's like… Uh, three months in doggy time!" and her facts were a little mixed up too.

"Yeah… Yeah okay, I guess, but you're buying lunch," I instructed and she squealed, turning on her heel.

Karl covered one ear as he stopped by a thin walkway. "Well, you girls have a right good time," he said sarcastically. "I'm going to go to bed, I feel completely stoned," he muttered and Megan and I both laughed a little, waving him off as he turned off the sidewalk and onto his driveway.

"So, what do you want to do, Megan?" I asked simply and she glanced at me, a cattish smile dancing across her lips.

I felt a slight chill as she grabbed my hand, something about her different today as she looked up at me and said. "I want to go to Ash Bridge."

**Scene End**


	12. Scene 12: Did I Stumble?

**Scene 12: Did I Stumble?**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

We walked around town for the better part of the afternoon, Megan leading on with her fluid steps. I had a soda in my hand, walking after her with what felt like a caveman's stride compared to her stupidly graceful strides. I'd brought it up once, a long time ago, and she'd confessed that her mother had put her in dance classes when she was very small, like six or something, and that'd she'd taken them until she was about twelve.

It explained it some, but it still bothered me to no end, especially now for some reason.

"Why do you want to go to Ash Bridge so bad? The river is going to be mostly frozen right now anyway," I kicked a pebble as we walked, Megan glancing over her shoulder at me.

She had a thin, white stick poking out of her mouth; a tootsie pop if I wasn't mistaken, or maybe one of those stupid generic ones. She grabbed the stick and popped the sucker out of her mouth before she said anything. "That's why I want to go," she smiled at me. "I was going to drop some stuff on the ice, like rocks, you know? See if they'd break through yet."

"So I'm coming with in case you fall in?"

"More or less," she bit down hard on the sucker, crushing it in between her back teeth, and I flinched at the faint crackling noises it made. I shuddered as a chilled breeze went by, feeling like something bad was up; something about Megan seemed off today, more off than usual, and it was messing with my sense of reality to a level I didn't really understand.

Why today? You know, when I actually needed some of her cheery cuteness to level out my bad vibes?

I glanced up and saw the bridge in all its glory; Ash Bridge was the unofficial town name for Taylor's Bridge. It was back in the 70's if I remember right, when a small house caught fire. The fire spread to two more houses, and the bridge, and all the wood work had completely burned, turning most of the structure into ash. It'd gotten its nickname from the local newspaper because the bridge had looked like it was really made of ash, according to the guy who wrote an article about the fire, and the name had stuck and carried onto to our generation.

Nobody I knew didn't know that story because it town folklore. Megan knew it, Karl knew it, and I wondered if Noah had heard the story yet?

Megan ran up to the small bridge, her feet up coming and she grabbed the railing, her feet landing on the lowest rail as she peered over and down at the frozen surface of the river. "Wow!" she practically squealed in childish delight. "The ice looks so wickedly awesome from here, Hannah! Come look!" she called and I walked towards her, resting my forearms against the cold, steel railing.

The ice wasn't breaking up yet, that wouldn't happen till spring, but it looked papery in this light. Instead of being shiny and sleek like usual, it looked almost milky, like it wasn't entirely solid, and I felt the strong urge to jump in and see if it made me crave Oreos.

"That's kind of cool," I agreed quietly, leaning over a little more. I was taller than Megan, so I didn't have to stand on the rail like she did, but I figured she got a lot better view than I did. "So, why'd you want to come out here so bad?" I was watching her from the corner of my eye.

She frowned a little, her eyes still over the edge. "You make it sound like I have some other intent," she murmured, her own eyes shifting to meet mine. "What's wrong Hannah, why're you acting so weird lately?" she jumped down from the rail and turned, her back resting against it.

"It's the Anderson thing, you know that," I muttered quietly, resting my chin on my forearm. "I feel like you blew me off the other day… It's important to me and you just, well, you know," I looked out onto the river, seeing the island where Megan, Karl and I had swam to and camped last summer.

We'd thrown two tents, some sleeping bags, and a pack full of camping goodies onto a floaty and swam to the island. We spent two days over there, roasting potatoes wrapped in tin foil and fish me and Karl caught in the river. That was the first year we'd all really hung out for any length of time, and I envied my old self for how simple things had been.

"I'm sorry," she smiled at me. "I wasn't trying to upset you, it's just that… Manga is manga, Hannah," she had her arms folded over her chest now, frowning. Megan sighed loudly then turned and grabbed the rail again. I shuddered a little as she climbed to the top of the rail and stood on the thick, steel support. "Come on, we can go do some super sleuthing on Anderson later," she smiled at me, reaching a hand down.

"You know I hate it when you do that," I said quietly, not taking my hands out of my pockets. "During the summer is one thing, but it's icy out. You fall and the water isn't going to catch you," the words tasted foul, like I'd just taken a swig of rotten milk; it was a fear of falling, of her falling really, and I'd pictured it before when she'd climb up on the railing, but she never did. Never even stumbled or slipped up.

"I know. Come on up," she was still smiling. "We'll walk to the other side and then go for pizza," her hand was still reached down to me, her eyes shiny in the afternoon sun, and the backdrop of the milky river behind her made it all look so inviting.

I reached up, taking her hand, and she helped me stand on the rail. I shuddered as a breeze brushed by, my eyes still out on the tree tops and the river beyond, not the river below because I figured if I looked down I was going to be getting a nasty sense of vertigo. "Why do I let you talk me into shit like this?" I murmured, glancing at her as she started walking along the rail.

Megan turned around, smiling at me, and her mouth opened as if to speak. "Hannah!" I jumped a little in my skin and turned my head again, seeing Mr. Anderson climbing out of his truck. What was he doing here?

I felt Megan's hand on my shoulder and I looked at her. "I'll find you on the other side," her eyes were shining and then, sharply, she shoved me forward.

I slipped, turned, and I was falling back first towards the snow and ice below. Everything was moving so slowly, giving me a brief glimpse of Megan getting ripped off the bridge rail by Mr. Anderson before I crashed into the rock hard surface of the ice.

My lungs screamed as the wind was knocked out me, my head slamming down hard, and I was suddenly woozy, but still awake. It accrued to me that this must be what it feels like to fall through a window, the ice breaking apart as I started sinking, a lack of air in my lungs making it impossible for me to breathe as the cold water pulled me deeper down.

My bulky winter coat wasn't helping either, my arms barely able to propel me up. I could see the hole where I'd come through, and I could see a dark shape descending towards me. After that my thoughts were starting to merge into a black goo, my eyes feeling heavy, and my chest burning furiously with the need to breath…

My eyes started fading into black, black, black, and I was sinking deeper into that comatose-like state, drunk with fear as my feet moved weakly in my boots, trying to propel me upward. A few more bubbles floated upward like blurry spheres, the cold tightening around me until I felt like I was being crushed. Quickly, the darkness moved in and the light started to fade away, my body feeling like a pile of wet clothes at the bottom of the bathtub.

I needed air… No air… Can't breathe… Cold getting worse, thoughts running together, legs giving out…

Can't breathe, can't move…

Am I dead?

**Scene End?**


	13. Scene 13: Frost Bitten

**Scene 13: Frost Bitten**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

Air? Air… I can't breathe!

When my eyes at last opened I was surrounded by black. My body was wrapped tightly in the cold water and I felt my arms begin to flail. My body was reacting without my mind and my mind was somewhere deep down, conflicted with the need to get above water. I brought myself back frantically and I started to kick, struggle viciously as I tried to figure out which way was up.

Up, down, left, or right? I couldn't tell; I was delirious with fright as my arms twisted around inside my thick winter jacket, the coat holding me like a vice as I tried to find a source of oxygen. I started to turn again, seeing light straight above me, and my muscle fought to bring me towards it. My hand broke the surface first and I shot up, gasping and clawing like a half drown cat.

My arms broke the water finally, making my flailing considerably easier, and suddenly the whole world was real again. Air assaulted my starving lungs and I felt heavy, dangerously close to sinking again, but I labored to stay afloat. I started towards what looked like a snowy shore, my body bobbing up and down as I swam. I did make it though, and I pushed my hands right into the snow, cutting my fingers open on shards of ice hiding beneath the fluffy white; I wasn't as aware of it as I should have been as I crawled up onto the shore, burying my face into the snow.

It took my heart a few beats to catch up with my lungs, and my brain was starting to flicker on again. I rolled onto my elbows and knees after what felt like hours, but it must have only been a few minutes because the water on my jacket hadn't frozen yet.

I looked down at my fingers, seeing the bloody ends and shuddered. _I stuck my hand right into a bank of ice_, I figured as I started to push myself up on my knees, my head spinning with the effort. I looked around slowly, seeing tall pine trees and mounds of snow; this place looked untouched by human life, totally natural, which didn't help me even slightly…

I decided that I had drifted down river quite a ways, but that didn't explain where I'd managed to get a few cheap breaths from. I shuddered as I made my way towards a massive pine tree, the underside still slightly free of snow, brown pine needles visible. I crawled under and quickly peeled my coat away, my body feeling sickly cold. I twisted the coat into a heap, ringing some of the icy water out of it, but I knew it wasn't going to help much.

I'd freeze fast enough…

I pulled the jacket back on after ringing it out a few times, but it was still colder than fuck. Shuddering, I undid the pockets and fiddled around in hopes of finding something that would help me, or at least slow down the process of dying; if I made it back before I froze to death, I was going to bash Megan's fucking head in…

My body started shaking as I thought of her smiling, pushing me over, and I felt like I could scream; my eyes started to burn as I dug in my pockets, tears staining my cheeks. I pulled a handful of junk out of my pocket, most of it surprisingly dry; my coat was a skiing jacket, so the pockets were pretty insolated and the coat had little flaps that sealed over the zippers…

I poked through my items, my fingertips a dangerous blue; I had a pair of headphones, three dollars and some change, a pen, a paperclip, and a lighter. I grabbed the lighter and flicked it a few times, but when it didn't light I brought it close to my lips and breathed into the top, hoping to dry off the flint a bit…

I flicked it a few more times and waited, then held it in the light, making sure it actually had fluid; some, but some water could have made it into the pockets and ruined the fluid, in which case I was royally fucked. I tried it a few more times, my fingers hurting more and more with each attempt, but I gasped when it suddenly flared to life.

I dropped the three dollar bills on the ground and crumpled them together with weak fingers, stuffing some pine needles beneath the bills, and finally held the small flame to the corner of the semi-damp paper. A few minutes ticked by as I dried out the money, and by then my head was spinning with dizziness and what tasted like nausea.

They lit, finally, and I watched as they burned. The pine needles caught shortly afterward and I held my fingers close to the tiny flames, flinching as the heat began ebbing into my nails and thawing the frozen blood from my wounds.

Once the feeling started to come back to my fingers I broke off a few tiny branches, tossing them on the fire mechanically as the heat started to filter into the rest of my body. Once the fire started to warm me through the coat I pulled it away, hanging it on my shoulders so the heat could start to dry my clothes…

I still felt whoozy, sleepy even, but I was terrified of letting myself drift off, worried that I might not wake up again if I gave in to what felt like a combination of exhaustion and pain. I dropped another tiny stick on my basketball sized flame then held my fingers over it again, twitching as a tight pain ran down into my toes.

I glanced out from under the pine tree, the branches hanging low enough that I'd be pretty hard to see once nightfall rolled around. That scared me a bit, waiting until night, if I didn't die by then; I'd have to spend the night in the woods in the middle of winter… I shuddered and then started untying my boot laces. I pulled them away and then pulled my socks off painfully slowly, feeling as if they were frozen to my feet.

I set my boots close to the fire, letting them suck in some of the heat, my socks getting tied to some sticks so they could drip dry a little; in the meantime, I just rubbed my feet until they started to feel a little better, and by then, I was so tired I felt like I might pass out at any moment…

I yawned widely, shuddering as I yanked the still damp coat tighter around my frame. The fire was small, but it was heating my legs and feet plenty well… _Maybe if I just close my eyes,_ I pieced together in my head, debating on the danger of it. I was lucky enough to make it out of the water and get a small fire going, so I figured… Well, I figured I must be out of any really serious danger.

I poked my socks to see if they were dry yet then yanked them on, tugged on my coat, and then hugged my knees against my chest so I could stare at the flames that licked the cool air around me. God I was tired, my head feeling like a lead weight.

I closed my eyes, feeling a fog lift and the pressure against my temples lessen slightly. Almost instant relief met me, and I wondered why I hadn't calmed myself down earlier…

_Getting sleepy,_ my head felt numb as I tried to open my eyes, but they hardly moved. _Just a few minutes,_ I reasoned silently, resting my chin on top of my legs. _Just a few…_

**Scene End**


	14. Scene 14: Awakening

**Scene 14: Awakening **

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

…

_"Why is it so fucking cold?" I twitched as I spoke, my voice a low growl and my breath a swirling cloud of steam. My feet crunched below me, but I couldn't see what was in front of me. Everything was black…_

_I stopped for a moment, my head feeling strangely light, and my body crumpled into a heap on the ground. _**Why can't I breath? **_My mind screamed down into my consciousness, my throat burning as the darkness seemed to become something more than my perception._

_It started to squeeze me, like a boa constrictor, and I felt as if there was a pair of hands around my throat. I chocked, twitching in my little pile on the frozen floor._

_Everything was fading in and out, like rave lights, and my fingernails dug into my scalp._

_Sound fluttered into my ears, echoed like a tornado siren and a tiny, slender figure appeared; she was doing dangerous looking pirouettes across the black ice. Twirling around, one spin, another, and her eyes met mine for a moment. She laughed brightly, than seemed to fade into the boa-like darkness, squeezing…_

_I gagged again, throwing up solid stones; yellow, green, red… I hacked up blood, my body convulsing again as the darkness crushed my ribs, my shoulders… My lungs were on fire, my throat was backed up with blood as my powers turned against me, turning everything in my throat into a jagged edge, cutting me up from the inside…_

_Red stones hit the floor musically as she laughed in the background, leaving me there to die._

_…_

My body jerked, my heart slammed into my ribs, and I screamed as my whole form came up. My head was rushing around in circles, my hair a disheveled mess in my eyes as my hands frantically went over my face, my shoulders, through my knotted hair. _Still alive, you're still alive,_ cooed my own inner voice, calm as a stoner.

I struggled with my breathing, gasping and choking as my hand settled on my throat; I could breath, but the sharp cries in between my breaths made me light headed. I hadn't cried this hard in a very long time. Had I almost died? Was that it?

Or was it my best friend pushing me to my death… Maybe that was it?

Another sound entered my earshot and I jerked to one side, my back hitting a wall and I cringed. A man stood in a doorway, and only now did I take notice of my surroundings; I was in what looked like a bedroom, the walls looking like thick plaster with a thin coat of cream colored paint over them, and the only other things worth noticing were the dresser and chair... I twitched again, feeling something around my arm, and I glanced down to see a silver ring around my wrist, a chain connected to another ring in the wall.

"I see you're up," the man said, drawing my attention back to him, but I didn't look at him at first. My attention was more affiliated to the handcuff holding me to the wall. "The restraint is just for security, don't be alarmed," now I looked at him, just through the strands of my hair though.

He was tall, very lean and built; his eyes were damn near electric blue, unnaturally bright, and his skin was too perfect, without flaw or blemish. His hair threw me off some, shock white with tinged in blonde, like he'd failed bleaching it, and his face was sharp, his jaw crooked…

"Where am I?" I squeaked, flinching at the rasping crack in my voice. I looked down at my hands, studying the slight blue hue they now held.

"The Land of Snow," he said evenly and my head came up again, my eyes boring right into his. He didn't look amused, but rather looked completely serious. He stepped into the room and grabbed the chair, pulling it over to the small bed where I had been placed, and sat down a few feet away from me; just out of striking distance. "Now you know, now tell me how you got here?"

My hands felt numb, like they'd been cut off and no longer existed, and my heart was starting to pump again. What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I opened my motuh, wanted to say something, maybe lie, or try to explain, but I chocked on it before the lie even began and I buried my face in my hands and started to cry… Again.

My stomach churned and I gagged, my sobbing turning into chocking, and I found a bucket in front of my face. I wrapped my arms around it and hurled, my body jerking harshly, my shoulders tightening to the point I thought my collar bone might snap under their pressure. I choked again, an image of stones coming up making it impossible for me to force the vile back down.

After the fourth round there was nothing left for my stomach to give and I dry heaved for a second or two, tasting nothing but this disgusting tang that lingered on the back of my tongue; I knew why I was reacting this way, but then I should have been able to reason myself out of puking, out of the sobbing, and sniveling… I chocked again, about to hurl up my stomach.

I felt a hand on the small of my back and then a warm, tingling feeling shot up my spine and I inhaled sharply, suddenly able to breath, but I was still gasping like a fish out of water. The bucket was pulled away and my hand went over my mouth; with the puking stopped, the taste of vomit was suddenly overwhelming potent, and I was still rasping in short breaths.

"Breath," was the instruction, his hand taking my wrist and pulling it away from my mouth. "I'll get you some water, but if you keep hyperventilating like that you're going to blackout again."

I nodded best I could, trying to force my breathing back under my control, suddenly aware of my heart still slamming against my ribs. "I'm sorry," I wheezed out at last, hand against my chest as I focused on my heart, my lungs.

He still had his hand resting on the small of my back, that warm tingle still filtering into my spine and out through my ribs. "It's fine," then his hand came away and the warmth shot out with it. I shuddered. "Okay… Can you talk?" I glanced at him when he said this, the man sitting there looking pensive to say the least.

"I… I think so, but… Well, I don't think you're going to hear anything helpful," finally able to talk again I inhaled slowly and then looked back down at my hands. He nodded simply and then leaned back in his chair, giving me a second to reevaluate his appearance.

Everything I picked apart at first was correct, but now I noticed his outfit; thick boots that came up almost to his knees, baggy pants that looked like they were made of some black coarse looking material, and a white turtle neck with a powder blue, standard chunin vest over top. He also had a Snow hitai-ate across his forehead, keeping his hair up in a style that reminded me of a less ridiculous Kisame…

I shook my head, pushing any information about the Naruto universe out of my head, and fast. I didn't want to know any of it, not now that I was here. I knew too much about it as it was, and as they say in **Back To The Future**: "_It's never good to know too much about one's own destiny._"

In my case, it wasn't my destiny I was worried about. It was everybody else's… By the time Megan threw me overboard I'd made it almost through the Third Shinobi World War arch, and Tobi announced who he really was…

I knew way, WAY too much.

"Here, let's start simple… What's your name?" I glanced up again, the snow nin seeming a little less hostile with every minute that passed.

It crossed my mind to give him a fake name, try my hand at something Japanese, but I could only think of a handful of names off the top of my head. "Han," I tried simply, hoping he'd buy it.

"Han-san," he repeated, looking me in the eye. It was a nickname, part of my name, and I think he knew I was giving him a half ass answer, but he let it slide. "Alright, you may call me Gousetsu,"

He nodded once as he introduced himself.

Great, we're using all the little quirks on the names…

"Ok, Gousetsu-san," I rolled it over carefully, making sure I said it right. I'd read a lot of manga over the years, sure, but names had sometimes been an issue for me; especially longer ones.

He didn't give me a dirty look though, so I figured I said it right. "Good. Now, I am part of this region's patrol, and I found you out in the woods half frozen to death. Do you know how long you've been unconscious?" he was very professional.

"Um… I don't know, few hours?" I wasn't sure I really wanted to know as my fingers slipped between the loose space between my wrist and the handcuff.

"Three days, total. You're very lucky I found you," I flinched at his tone, feeling like I was being scolded. He shifted in his seat a bit, brushing down a few wrinkles along the knee of his pants. "Given that, I really doubt you're a shinobi, and you're too old to be a Genin," he made a gesture as if I were to continue with his train of thought, his hand making a small, circular motion.

"No, I'm not, and I'm seventeen," no point in lying… My pointer finger wrapped around the cuff for a moment as I debated on what I should say next; what was he wanting me to tell him? My life story?

Ha, fat chance.

"I'm not sure what else to tell you, honestly… I'm Han, seventeen, not considered extremely intelligent," it was kind of a pathetic thing to say, but I figured it true at this moment. Having found me frozen in the woods, he probably thought I was a total moron. A really lucky moron.

"No, if you were a total idiot, you'd be dead. At some point, you had a fire going, when I found you it was down to the embers, but you'd managed to get it going, so you at least knew well enough to try and stay warm," wow, a compliment this early? I must be far more charming than I thought. He shifted again, as if uncomfortable, and then spoke. "I'm wondering where you're from. You had no papers in your coat, no weapons, nothing for me to go off of."

I didn't know how the Land of Snow felt about trespassing, and I didn't particularly want to find out either, so I tossed my previous decision aside and made something up; something small and believable, easy to refer back to. "I think I lost them when I fell in water, although I'm not entirely sure how I got here in the first place," pieces of a lie, pieces of the truth, and something is about fifty percent more plausible, easier to believe with hints of reality sprinkled in there.

He looked… Concerned.

"I see," was all he said, which in my experience never means anything good. I watched his hand slide back towards his weapons pouch and my breath caught in my throat, knowing that if something bad happened here, I was probably dead.

What's that saying? You can't cheat death twice?

**Scene End**


	15. Scene 15: False Alarm

**Scene 15: False Alarm **

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

My breath hitched when he produced a small, silver key, my heart slowing down again. God, if this keeps up my poor heart's gonna have an aneurism or some shit. I watched as he stood and leaned over me, the key undoing the link that held me to the wall. "You're lucky I found you and not one of the other patrols. Nobody else would buy a blotchy story like yours," he said as he sat back down.

"So you think I'm lying?" I sounded offended, though I knew I shouldn't be. I don't know, that fact that someone assumes I'm lying, even when I am, just annoys me somehow.

"No, I know you're lying," he smiled a little as he said this and I felt like a moron again. He stood now, brushing more wrinkles from his clothes in the process. "Think you can stand?"

I glanced down at the blankets where I could see my legs and debated for a few moments. "Well, it doesn't look like they were severed at the knee or anything, so I guess I can certainly try," I murmured, my fingers already tightening around a small clutch of the blanket. I pulled it away and then swung my feet over one side, letting them dangle for a moment, and then set my bare feet down.

I jerked a little, the floor feeling like ice against my toes. Growing up spoiled with the heat always set to seventy-five meant my tolerance for cold floors wasn't so great, but I bared it and tried my hand at standing. Bad idea, I dropped right back down on my ass with my head spinning like a top; my stomach churned again with sickness, and I thought I might start puking again.

"Well, I guess I can't work miracles," Gousetsu murmured quietly, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're going to be stiff from lying in bed the way you have. Nothing a little stretching won't fix though," he turned, still speaking, and left the room. I heard some shuffling about in the next room, what sounded like glasses clinking into each other, and then he reappeared. He held out a tall glass of water and I accepted it, grateful for a chance to finally get the taste out of my mouth.

I gulped it down greedily, the threat of hiccups in the back of my mind. Gousetsu's hand touched the bottom of the glass, keeping me from tipping it up further. "Slow down a little, I don't need you throwing up again," he instructed and I nodded slightly. I downed the rest of the glass as soon as his hand was gone and then sighed loudly; water had never tasted so good.

He took the glass and set it on the little night stand next to the bed, previously unnoticed by me. Why does everybody have a nightstand? I pushed the thought aside as he made a gesture to me. "Sit up straight," he instructed.

"Seriously?" I asked blandly, feeling like a kid in English class.

He sighed. "No, I need to check your head wound. I sealed it up, but I'd still like to make sure it's healing properly," he instructed as I shifted, sitting a little straighter.

"Head wound?" my thoughts were vocal this time.

He nodded as his fingers touched the top of my head, my body pulling away a little on reflex; oh yeah, there was a tender spot there, for sure. His palm was flat against my head for a moment and then pulled away, but a familiar, warm tingling started to move across the top of my scalp. "Oh," I said stupidly. "You're a medical ninja, aren't you?" it wasn't really my place to ask, but I felt smart for having made the connection despite the lack of visible chakra.

I don't know how many picked this up, but chakra is actually invisible to the human eye unless there is an insane quantity of it present. The only time it's visible is when the user has no chakra control and it just pours out of them when they use a strong jutsu, or their jutsu is so powerful that the chakra radiates around the part of the body the jutsu is liable to come from.

Noting the lack of flashy greenishness, I figured Gousetsu here was a damn good med nin. "I am," he confessed and I pumped a fist into the air childishly, proud of my deductive reasoning. Batman would proud.

"I guess I'm not surprised you didn't realize you were bleeding out. Cold has that kind of effect on a person, especially considering the concussion you must have," he pulled his hand as he said this, the warm tingling leaving me to shudder again. "Although, most people don't end up in frozen riverbanks, so there really is no telling," his tone was lacking in humor as he said this.

I was quiet from there, not wanting to upset him any further. He'd saved my ass and I owed him some respect for that at the very least. _At the absolute least, actually,_ I reminded myself pointedly, and my hand ran down my arm as the discomfort in the room became tension. I severely disliked awkward silences.

"So… What happens now?" way to go Hannah, ask the obvious question.

Gousetsu shrugged a little. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I figure breakfast might be a good idea," he stood, again his hand attacking one of the ever persistent wrinkles in his pants.

"Wow, saving my life and making breakfast? You really know how to treat a girl, Gousetsu-san," it was an attempt to break some of the tension, and he smiled at my joke. Thank god, he was warming up to me a little; better yet is my people skills are shit, so bonus points.

He left the room and I heard a few more noises for a little while, leaving me to my thoughts. I tested my feet on the floor again. I shivered as my feet touched the floor, but I'd done harder things, and I wasn't about to let chilled feet get the best of me.

I managed to get to my feet, make myself dizzy, and nearly fall, but thankfully Gousetsu had left the chair in the middle of the room and I'd made that my support while I tried to get my head rush under control. It took a few minutes, I think, because this odd smell filled my nose; something was cooking for sure, and now my stomach was rumbling like a brat.

"Oh, shut up," I whispered to myself as I made it through the doorframe. _I've never had Japanese food… This should be interesting,_ my thoughts ranted as I made it into the next room at last.

It was a similar style to the previous room, simplistic; the doors on the far side looked like they were thick, sliding doors, which surprised me a little. I'd read a lot of manga, the houses mostly baring a lot of the same elements, but I figured up in the mountains it would look a lot different. In reality, not really, it was just winterized some.

The table had three chairs, one of them with a cracked back, and the far wall had some cabinets and a double sink. For some reason, I highly doubted he had running water up here, thought that was assuming we were up in the mountains or just out in the middle of nowhere.

The stove was an old styled woodstove, different than any I'd ever seen personally. I glanced over to Gousetsu as he set a bowl on the table, a pair of chop sticks resting across the top. "Congratulations, you made it to your feet," I bowed comically and then walked towards the table. He gestured to one of the good chairs and I sat, the steaming bowl sitting in front of me.

It smelled absolutely fantastic; there was for sure one boiled egg floating in a dark, golden broth, along with some chunks of what looked like chicken and oddly cut vegetables. "I don't make the best dengaku, but it's edible. I promise," Gousetsu said as he sat down across from me with his own bowl, his chopsticks already in hand.

I took mine, thankful for years of Chinese takeout, and poked what looked like a carrot. I ate quietly, not sure what I should say, and just examined my food. The broth was kind of soy saucy, but different too, the egg was somehow far more delicious than any egg I'd ever consumed, and whatever was left in the bowl I tried to eat at a semi-polite speed.

"This is really good, Gousetsu-san," he glanced over as I said this then smiled a little.

"Would you like another bowl?" and I nodded without a second thought.

This could work out I figured, for now, as he took my bowl and walked back over to the woodstove. I didn't know how long he'd let me hide out here, but for I decided I should just graciously accept food and wait…

Wait for what?

**Scene End**


	16. Scene 16: Where It Begins

**Scene 16: Word Play**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

Three days had gone by since I woke up, and for the most part they'd been fairly uneventful. Gousetsu mentioned once that he'd take me down the mountain, yes we were on a mountain, once my head was healed up enough and he was sure I could handle a trek that far. I mentioned that I wasn't sure how far I'd make it anyway, to which he just laughed.

Today, I'd seen Gousetsu packing a bag and I knew he'd decided I'd be able to make it to the village he'd mention. I was nervous, terrified actually, and I'd had most of the morning to myself, in the bathroom, trying to keep from vomiting out of sheer anxiety. God I hated this, I'd never been so scared before, not of anything that I could ever remember.

Not until Gousetsu knocked on the door. "It's time to go," his voice was smooth, giving nothing away, and I pulled my head out of the sink slowly, glancing up at my reflection. My skin had paled considerably over the last couple of days, my hair was a mess, and my eyes had deep sunken rings beneath them. I'd been plagued by nightmares of Megan and the stones, resulting in my current appearance…

I ran my fingers through my hair quickly, tearing through knots without flinching, until my hair looked slightly less horrible. I took one last look at myself, considered it might be my last, and then turned towards the door. "Okay, I guess," I murmured as I opened the door. Gousetsu handed me a coat I didn't recognize and I blinked, staring at the deep blue jacket.

"You're clothes draw too much attention," he dropped it in my arms as he spoke then pointed to a new set of clothes sitting on the bed. "The procedures of finding a civilian is to send them to the main land, namely the Land of Fire. You'll be their problem," Gousetsu started to leave the room and, suddenly, I made a realization.

"Wait, Gousetsu… Who's in charge of this country?" I felt stupid for asking, but I was hoping that since I was considered a civilian, it wouldn't be strange of me to ask.

He glanced at me, looking slightly put off, but simply shrugged. "A man named Kazahana Doto," he replied. "He took hold of the throne about ten years ago; we don't keep civilians anymore because of him, he doesn't want outsiders in our country at all if he can help it, and sending people like you back to the main land is the easiest way for a man like him to avoid going to war over something trivial."

_The easiest way for him to look for his so called treasure, _I recalled proudly. I'd read the manga more than watched the anime, namely because I could never decide between the Japanese cast and the English cast, but Megan had insisted that I watch at least some of the movies; when I'd asked why, she just laughed and told me it gave me a new perspective on the manga, and might convince me to watch the anime more.

Gousetsu left the room so I could change and I counted myself lucky that Doto was such an idiot; he pushed civilians out as quickly as possible so they wouldn't hear rumors about this land's treasure, or at least that was what I was assuming. Better yet, it was unarguably convenient for me.

I figured if Doto was in power of the Land of Snow, I was likely in the anime. This also meant that Sasuke hadn't defected yet, and I was mostly in the clear as far as conflict went. With any luck, I'd be across the ocean, in the Land of Fire, and off to some remote part of the world in no time! I wasn't about to interfere with the happenings of this world; I'm not that noble, and I wasn't about to pretend like I was.

I unfolded the clothes Gousetsu had left for me carefully, focusing on them now; the pants were white, the shirt long sleeved and black. He gave me a pair of closed toed boots that came up to my knees, which were about the same dark blue as the coat he'd pawned off on me. Actually, slipping everything on, I was shocked by how warm it was compared to my own clothes.

Ninja technology, it's even in their clothes.

The coat had thick white stripes under the arms that ran down horizontally and matched up with my legs, breaking up some of the blue, and pulling the hood up, I found it had a white band all the way around the middle of it.

Gousetsu knocked as I zipped the coat up, my anxiety lessening over the course of the last few minutes. "Ready to go?" he questioned through the door and I inhaled slowly.

"Yeah," I turned as he opened the door and walked out into the kitchen. He was dressed pretty much the same, although he had a thicker coat over top of his turtle neck now. "How 'come you get to dress all sleek?" I made a point to pout.

He smiled at me. "Because I have years of experience _not_ nearly freezing to death."

"That hurt my pride," my voice was low, somewhat sarcastic, as Gousetsu opened the front door. I hadn't been outside once since I woke up, and the sun glaring against the snow made me flinch back, nearly fall.

"It was supposed to," teased the med nin as his hand rested between my shoulder blades, keeping me standing. We walked out into the daylight and I followed behind him, already sick of walking, but I figured complaining wasn't going to get me anywhere; instead, I started looking at the scenery. God, it was stupidly gorgeous up here; the mountains in the distance looked like they'd been painted there, the trees below them sparkling under the afternoon sun, and I could see a thin, blue shimmer defying the white.

That must have been the river Gousetsu pulled me from.

I glanced ahead, seeing his back, then looked past him and down the trail. It was obviously tended too, wide enough for four or five people to walk side by side, and didn't look like it was sheeted in ice. I flinched at a memory of Megan doing pirouettes across the ice in the school parking lot… Why did everything have to make me think of her?

"Are you alright?" my head shot up, seeing Gousetsu walking up ahead of me. When had he gotten so far away? I nodded slowly as I walked towards him, his hands sitting in his pockets as he eyed me. "If you say so," he walked slower now, keeping at my side this time, and I felt a little better about my internal conflict with him here.

I would probably never see him again after this, and that was fine, but I felt like I could really be friends with Gousetsu; he was pretty nice guy, for a Snow Nin, and as I stuffed my hands in my pockets I considered what would happen if I went into detail about where I was from. He'd probably think I was nuts, in all likely hood.

We walked in silence for several hours, the sun slowly sinking down towards the mountains, casting intense gold rays across the surface of the earth, and I couldn't help but stop for a few moments to admire the shimmering scene below; what a magnificent country this was, snow and all.

I heard something crunch against the snow and I glanced over, seeing Gousetsu standing by a thin road. Something that looked like a retro pickup was sitting in front of him, maybe from the thirties or forties, but decked out with sled skis and snow treads instead of wheels; right, the Land of Snow has all kinds of fun gizmos… Gousetsu gestured me over to the truck as he climbed into the open bed.

I sat across from Gousetsu, trying to not land myself right in a pile of slush. This would be a long enough ride without being wet, I figured, so I made a conscious effort to give myself as few things to complain about as possible. "How long will it take to get down the mountain?" my eyes were going off to the setting sun when I asked, knowing it'd be dark soon.

The med nin looked that way too for a moment then shrugged. "We'll be there sometime in the early afternoon, maybe in around eight in the morning if there's no trouble."

_Not likely,_ I sighed too myself, feeling uncomfortable as the truck jerked, sliding forward. The treads in the back propelled the thing forward, the skis there more for speed than actual maneuverability in my opinion. Kind of a stupid design, in a way, and probably not the safest when it found ice…

An image of this wagon flying over a cliff made my eye twitch. _God, I really need to get over this anxiety shit…_

By the time nightfall had come along, I was freezing, my arms tucked tightly around my body, and my nose buried in the collar of my coat. I'd be a freezie by the time we finally got there, and I was going to be peeled off with a snow shovel, probably… Not to mention the boat ride to the main land; oh how I was looking forward to that.

"Cold?" his voice pulled me out of my coat, my head tilting up just enough so I could look him in the eyes.

"No no, I was thinking about dropping a few layers, getting a tan," I managed to say through chattering teeth. He rolled his eyes at me, probably wondering why he was still putting up with my ass. I hissed when we hit a bump, my entire form bouncing up, and then crashing down again; I felt like I'd been kicked in the tailbone by a cow, and I was quickly losing my patience. "Geez, isn't this country supposed to be really techy? Why not just take a train, or something?"

I rubbed my shoulders while I gripped, wondering why Gousetsu hadn't turned my smart ass comment around with one of his own. I glanced up again to see him staring at me, like I'd said something extremely weird, or cursed a nun maybe. "Trains are primarily for military use," he was still looking right at me, and I felt like I said something I shouldn't have. "Actually, outside of the Land of Snow, few people even know they exist…"

_Oh… Yeah, I see what I did now,_ I didn't move beyond setting my hands down beside me, visible and unarmed, but my left hand was right in a puddle of slush. His hand rested on his knee, his eyes boring into my skull, and an overwhelming amount of Kabuto trivia poured into my head; if he wanted to kill me, it wasn't going to be hard for him. It didn't matter if he didn't same skill set as Yakushi, he was still a med-nin, and I'd just fried myself. _Figures, I haven't even made it out of the country yet._

"Who are you?" he asked again, like the first day.

"Han," was all I managed to reply.

His eyes narrowed on me, making me tense. "I won't ask again," his other hand moved slightly, as if itching to lash out at me. "If I have to take you in, I will." He seemed a lot different than the man who'd saved my ass three days ago. A lot colder, no pun intended.

I had a moment, I glanced down at my hand, then back up, and I realized there was only one way out of this…

**Scene End**


	17. Scene 17: The Escape

**Author's Note:**_ Okay, I'd like to point out that I don't know if I used the official name of the Princess Gale movies or not… Honestly, I couldn't find a real answer anywhere, so I just went with what popped up most consistently -_-_

_That said, if you know the actual name of her movies, let me know, and I'll change it ASAP! _

_Thanks for stopping in guys, enjoy!_

* * *

**Scene 17: The Escape**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

Gousetsu was a shinobi, I wasn't.

I had the urge to escape, he didn't.

Weighing those on scale, you'd say Gousetsu would win in a draw, but as he lunged at me I gripped a cold stone formed from the slush in the truck bed; I'd been doing this for years, and though I couldn't make huge rocks, I could make something about as long as a pen, and as thick as your finger, and when he got close, my reflexes kicked in. The jagged gem was coming up and I slammed it into his chest without so much as a second thought.

I didn't wait to see how I did, didn't bother to see if I'd really hurt him or not, I just rolled out of the wagon and hit the ground. We had to be going at least forty when I dropped, because my ass rolled a good fifteen feet before I hit a snow bank, then I was stumbling to my feet.

My heart was in my throat as I threw myself over a drift of snow, diving through the branches of a huge pine tree. Breathing was the last thing on my mind as my legs jerked their way through snow damn near as high as my knees; I didn't realize I was in this good of shape, although the adrenaline pumping through my veins probably had something to do with my sudden speed.

I tripped on what felt like a tree root, my face catching more ice before I had a chance to scream, and I rolled again; toppled over a ten foot drop and fell into another mound of snow. My breathing was starting to make me dizzy, anxiety getting its filthy hands into my brain again. I shook it off quickly, glancing back over my shoulder to see if Gousetsu was standing there, laughing at how bad I sucked.

Amazingly, he wasn't, and I took that as a sign that my ass should keep moving. I had a general direction of where the town was, as Gousetsu had said it was straight down the mountain; as long as I worked my way south, the way the truck had been driving, I should end up close to, or around the village where the docks were…

I pulled myself under a pine tree for cover, gasping like a sun burnt fish; chances were he was going to be waiting for me there, which meant I couldn't go directly to the village. I'd be dead before I ever made it off the island…

My fingers dug into my hair, my breathing and heart still recovering from the jog down the hill; I needed a plan. The only reason I hadn't frozen to death, completely, before was because I was a camper at heart. I liked being out in the woods, which was one thing, but trying to out sneak one of the sneakiest forms of military ever thought up?

That's a totally different slice of cheese there, gentlemen, and not one I could really compete with.

The branches above my head shifted slightly and I jumped, thinking it was Gousetsu, but all the trees were moving; nothing special, just a breeze…

_Smoke?_ I could smell it and I reached up, pulling myself up into the branches. I crawled a good fifteen feet up before stopping, worn out again, but presented with a much better view of the woods around me; I'd managed to stick to mostly underbrush when I ran down here, so from a vantage point like this, my tracks were invisible… Kinda cool.

I looked around, squinting in the waning light of the late afternoon when I saw the source; the wind had carried the smell towards me, a stack of smoke a several yards away, and my heart dropped a beat. _No fucking way I'm this lucky,_ my brain rattled as I shifted my way back down the tree.

I moved out from under the tree and started towards where I'd seen the smoke coming from, but didn't get far. I was greeted by a massive, ten foot high, chain link fence. I peered past it carefully, not able to see where the smoke had come from, but I did see some massive deer.

I don't know if you've ever seen what a reindeer looks like in real life, but Santa's little whitetails aren't even close; these suckers are big, furry, and have some massive antlers on them.

I.e. not to be fucked with.

I started moving around the fence, surprised. I'd found a reindeer farm, what were the chances?

At that moment I didn't so much care, so long as I was quick to get to whoever owned the place. I was working on a story to tell the owners, something believable, but like before I kept coming up with blanks or really shitty excuses of why I'd be way out here. Finally, I took a break under another big pine tree, plopping down on my ass so I could breathe for a while.

_I need a story… Something that isn't going to get me arrested on the spot,_ I ran my fingers through my hair again, trying to ignore the numbness ebbing into my bones. I was going to freeze to death out here if I didn't hurry. _God! Why does this place even exsist!? It's just some extra crap they made for the-!_

My head shot up, my fingers still tangled in my hair. _–for the movie!_ I jumped to my feet as this thought dawned on me. I couldn't remember the exact name of the movies, but I figured it was this or bust. I fixed my hair a little as I walked, choosing over the pieces of my story carefully; they'd buy it, I figured, hoped, really, as I finally saw the place come into view.

It was a small, Asian styled home, but winterized just like Gousetsu's; there was the fence a few yards away, one of the massive reindeer pacing by where I figured the door might be. This couldn't be a very large farm; otherwise I doubted they'd have the fence so close.

I inhaled slowly, walking up the porch, and I rapped on the door a few times; a polite step back made me feel less at risk, and I inwardly thanked myself when a massive man with a white beard opened the door. He looked down at me, seeming surprised at first, but then folded arms over his chest and spoke in a deep, heavy voice. "Can I help you?"

"Um, hopefully," I said with the very best smile I could ever hope to manage. I wasn't a social butterfly, I wasn't even particularly friendly, but I was gambling my life on this smile. "My name is Han, I work for a movie studio over in the Land of Fire," I had his attention now, and I heard life stirring inside the house. "I'm over here doing some research on the Land of Snow for a movie my producer is planning to shoot here, it's really beautiful up here," I added the last part in hopes of sounding more convincing.

A girl about my age popped up next to the old man, her eyes a dark purple while her hair was five shades of chestnut. If I'd ever seen some fantastic highlights, hers were right up there on the top five. "What movie?" her voice was deep like the man's, but distinctly more pleasing to the ear.

"Have you ever heard of '_The Adventures of Princess Gale_'?" I took a chance on the name, crossing my fingers in my mind.

Her face lit up. "Oh my god! I love those movies!" she squealed, my head throbbing from the pitch of her voice changing so suddenly. "Dad, move over! Let her in, she's probably freezing!" commanded the small girl, and the big guy sighed loudly, but let me past.

I felt my whole body shudder as I was bombarded with heat; oh yeah, this was good plan. She led me towards a large table and gestured to a chair as her father walked over and sat in a large recliner by a woodstove, the source of the heavenly heat.

"I can't believe Princess Gale is coming here!" the girl squealed as she placed a cup of tea in front of me, smiling. "They're going to shoot the whole film here and everything?" she had herself planted in the seat adjacent to mine, her eyes sparkling like embers.

"Well, not exactly. We're still in the storyboarding phase, and I believe the beginning of the movie is being done in the Land of Fire," I was bullshiting some, but she seemed to believe it.

"So what do you do, exactly?" came the big man's voice and I glanced back at him, his eyes dark with skepticism.

I turned in my chair a little so I could better face him. "Well, the producers and set makers send people like me to get a lay of the land, so to speak," now I was pulling this stuff right out of my ass. "My team and I find places we think match what the director is looking for, we decide if it's film safe for our actors and staff, and then head home and report our findings," he nodded as I spoke, and I took it a step further. "Normally, I have a camera and something to take notes but… Heh, see, I got into a little bit of an argument with a snow bank, threw me down a hill and I lost all my gear…"

"Oh, that's terrible!" the girl patted my hand sympathetically. "I suppose you've been wondering around looking for your camera and everything else?"

"Well, at first, but then I realized I was completely lost. I have no idea how to get back to the coast, and our ship leaves sometime tomorrow night," I ran my hand through my hair as I spoke, doing my best to seem distressed; I'd spent years lying to my parents about my grades, about school in general, and I was considered pretty good at it when not being molested by anxiety or the death stare of a shinobi.

"Dad!" whined the girl. "Oh my god, dad! If she doesn't get back to town, and misses her boat, I might never get to see how the series ends!" she was up on her feet, rounding up a coat and boots, and I felt my insides jell over with pride. "I'll take her down the mountain, be back by lunchtime."

_This is working fantastically!_ I cleared my throat to get her attention again. "No, I really couldn't ask you to do that on my account," my legs straightened as I stood. "Just give me some directions, maybe a map, and I'll be more than grateful," I nodded to her father who seemed to appreciate my offer, but the daughter was heart set on her plan.

"Absolutely not!" she stomped her foot, only adding to her appearance as a spoiled child in my mind. "There's wolves and bears all down this trail, it's safer to take a sleigh, or at _least_ have someone with you," her arms were crossed over her chest, her dad's hand over his eyes in a sign of frustration.

Internally, I was grinning. _Looks like my luck's beginning to turn,_ I told myself, thrilled that I'd decided to go with my _Movie_ plan. Anything else might not have worked at all!

**Scene End**


	18. Scene 18: Reindeer Assitance

**Scene 18: Reindeer Assitance**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

"Aisu-san?" I said as I watched her hitch a second reindeer to a large sled. She glanced back at me for a second, as if giving me permission to ask my question, than looked back down at what she was doing. "Why do you guys raise reindeer, of all things?" It'd bothered me since last night, when I first got here.

Of course her father wasn't going to let us go down the mountain at night, but agreed to let Aisu, his daughter, take me down early in the morning. She tugged a belt tight around one of the reindeer's stomachs. "Namely for meat, honestly. But they're crazy hearty up here, and survive better than just about anything else, I swear, these guys have made it through some pretty harsh winters," she laughed a little as she spoke.

"Insane," I was in awe of these things, somewhat, simply because of how massive they were compared to normal deer. Farming them seemed a little crazy to me, but then again, so did buffalo farming… No matter how delicious it was.

"Yup, but that's us," Aisu grinned at me as she put her boot up on the sleigh. "Shall we then?"

I climbed aboard carefully, watching the reindeer's head jerk slightly in my direction, and then dropped myself in the back, gripping the rails carefully; it was a lot like any cart I'd seen, but no wheels. It had thick, wooden rails along the sides, metal rods running through those for extra support, and it had skis on the bottom.

She turned now, grinning. "Alright! Welcome to Aisu's Reindeer Express!" she reminded me of Megan with longer hair, the way she spun and practically sang her words. "First time riders, I'd auggest you hold on tight!" she winked at me then turned sharply, dropping down on the little bench up front, and picked up the reins. "Hi-yay!"

And just like that, the whole sled was alive with movement; it jerked forward harshly, nearly throwing me up against the front of the box, and for a moment I found myself seriously reconsidering my plans. Aisu was pulling on the reins, left and right, and I was shocked to see that we were maintaining a relatively straight line down a manmade trail.

"I cut these trails myself!" Aisu called back to me as I finally managed to get myself stuck to the back corner, snow jetting up around us like water does under your car tires. She looked ahead again as the reindeer bolted down a steep hill, my stomach shooting up into my throat as they flew straight down.

"This is terrifying," I called back.

She laughed. "I know, isn't great?" Yeah she was just like Megan; or least before she turned evil and stuff. I glanced down, seeing an upward climb, and was silently thankful that the ride would slow a bit, or I figured it would. No, instead, these things just jet straight up this hill like it wasn't even there, their nostrils flaring, heads jerking left and right as they pulled us up the hill, and then they were bolting through snow again.

Reindeer, the ninja equivalent of normal deer!

Eventually, we reached a level grade, and Aisu slowed the sled down considerably, which allowed my stomach to settle back where it was supposed to be. She hummed as the deer trot along at a smooth pace, the clearing we were going through almost devoid of trees. This place gave me a weird feeling in the back of my skull, like I didn't want to be here. "Why'd we slow down so much?"

Aisu glanced back at me. "Oh yeah, you're not from around here," she seemed to have totally forgotten. Her face lit up. "You should _totally_ tell your director to put this place in the movie! It's super cryptic and stuff!" she turned again, watching where the reindeer were walking. "This is Ash Valley," she said and my brain flickered on like I'd been slapped. "There was a village here twenty years ago, something like that, but it burnt to the ground," she glanced back at me. "If you dig under the snow, you can actually find supports and the foundations of old houses."

"That's… Intensely creepy," I nodded to her as she smiled. "I'll mention it, maybe I can convince them to shoot a scene here?"

"That would be, in a word, AWESOME!" she squealed this time, her arms going straight up into the air, and I was shocked these deer didn't jump every time she did.

_Second thought, they're probably use to it,_ I sniggered to myself a little as our speed started picking up again. I looked out over the side of the wagon, watching trees go by as Aisu hummed some tune I didn't know, making the ride continually more peaceful, but of course something always ruins it for me.

_Now, I just need to figure out how to get onto the boat…_ I flinched inwardly as I started working that thought over in my mind. It wasn't going to be easy, by any means. _Maybe just sneak onto a different ship?_

Suddenly a new, much more pressing thought occurred to me… I had absolutely no idea which boat I was supposed to get on.

**Scene End**


	19. Scene 19: Ninja 101

**Scene 19: Ninja 101**

**By: DropDeadThenDance**

I glanced around town carefully, trying to not draw attention to myself, but Yukigakure was fantastic; buildings had the classy, old Asian style about them, and everything was painted red or jade. Boy did that stand out in the snow. They had these beautiful stone platforms around what looked like temples, intricate designs seen through where the snow had been shoveled away.

Actually, paying more attention, this place looked similar to where Kazahana had been crowned at the end of the first Naruto movie; just not so fancy, or green for that matter.

"So, do you know what dock I'm pulling you into?" Aisu voice brought me back from my sighseeing, and I debated what to say.

"Uh," I slipped. Real smooth, Hannah. "I don't remember the number… It'd be the dock most used for travelers though, I think," I flinched at how unsure I sounded, having nothing to work off of here, I couldn't fabricate a half way decent lie, but Aisu just shrugged off any suspicion and started down some left bearing street.

These streets, unlike Konoha's, were overrun with sleds and trucks, people sticking mostly to the far sides like in a normal city. Sidewalks were shoveled and salted, kids running up and down with hats on their heads, and the average person just looked like they were trying to get through the day. This was all normal for them… Almost normal for me.

"Hey!" I jumped at the voice and glanced back, seeing some red head kid running over to our sleigh. Aisu glanced over her shoulder, seeing the boy, and I saw her brow crease. She didn't look happy to see him at all. He came towards us anyway, beckoning her to pull to the side of the street so he could walk along beside us. "Hey, Zenjin-san," he grinned at her.

_Wait, I know that word,_ my brain clicked, and then I paled. _Her last name… Means saint, and they raise reindeer that pull sleighs… _I just buried myself in the collar of my coat, trying not to think about it anymore than I already had.

"Go away," Aisu's voice was like an iron grate, unyielding and a pain to get through.

The red head flinched at her voice, but kept close to the wagon. "Oh, come on Zenjin-san. I need to tell you something!" he jogged a little and grabbed the front of the sleigh, his brow furrowed. "Shinobi are bouncing around the village, looking for some kind of illegal alien… They think he's spy or something," he said the last part much lower, glancing at me.

"Oh, please!" Aisu hissed back down at him. "Doto's men are _always_ looking for some reason to search people's home, that's why Dad and I moved," she nodded curtly to him. "Believe whatever you want, Jiyuu-chan, I have things to do," the sleigh jerked forward, causing me to fall flat on my face, and I just lay there, twitching for a little while. He called after us, drawing attention to the sleigh, but as I came back up I saw Aisu already had us jetting down a side street, the ocean now in sight.

"You know that kid?" I'd managed to get myself into a proper sitting position again.

She scoffed loudly. "Yeah, I went to school with him before Dad pulled me out," school? She didn't mean like a ninja academy or something, did she? Looking at the back of her head, thinking about the way she handled these deer, it crossed my mind that it was entirely possible. Her dad could be training her himself, for all I know; like homeschooling, but for ninjas.

I glanced back to see if we wee being followed; nothing, just some people casting weid looks than going about thei business. _Awesome! I might actually make it out of this,_ I smiked a little to myself then sat back down, seeing the docks up ahead.

Now, I've never been on an actual ship, but I knew well enough to know that these weren't huge vessels. Think about the size of two school busses, side by side, and then half a bus taller. The idea of taking one of these little wooden ships to shore made my stomach churn a bit, but I figured it best not to complain while Aisu was present. How did I survive the tip over, she'd ask, and then I'd just have to fabricate more bull shit…

"This is close enough, Aisu-san," I tapped on the railing as she veered off to one side of the street. We were still far enough from the dock that it wouldn't look odd for her to drop me away from it. She could be dropping me at one of the shops for all anybody knew, and that's what I was hoping for too.

"Are you sure? I can take you the rest of the way," she had a small frown across her lips, making me feel almost entitled to let he take me down there... But survival depended heavily on me sneaking over to the docks, which were probably crawling with ninja and other… Ninja things.

"Nah, I'll be fine. And besides, I want to get some walking in before I'm stuck on that boat again," I smiled as I said this, my tone sarcastic, and Aisu smiled at me. "And I'll be sure to mention you're part, Aisu-san," and she ginned at me.

I offered a hand in a wave and then started walking down the street, casually, and I listened as the reindeers' hooves clicked across the cobblestone street, getting further and further away. As soon as I knew she was gone, I ducked into an alley, making sure no one had seen me, I hid down by what looked like an old basement entrance; sealed off with bricks, tons of cardboard and garbage.

I pushed some of the garbage bags aside with my foot, pushing the cardboard back against the wall until there was a space large enough for me to crawl into, but was well hidden from anyone who might walk by.

Ninja 101, hiding and making ones' presence unknown to those he is hunting, or those who are hunting him. In my case, I'm obviously the hunted, therefore, sneaking up onto the boat isn't going to be anywhere near as easy as I'd like to pretend; with that in mind, my plan is simple, but hopefully effective.

I'm going to hide out here overnight, see if any weird activity goes on down by the docks, and then sometime tomorrow or the following day, I'll sneak onto the ship…

Oh yeah, this plan isn't half baked at all…

**Scene End**


End file.
